Aspasia Williams and the Desert of Illusion
by out.of.sea.into.woods
Summary: It's been three months since Aspasia managed to escaped Chaos and the Darker Woods. Now, she and her friends must organize and strike at Chaos' next step to domination. But as their quest leads them to the Desert of Illusion, it seems that there is nothing and no one that Aspasia can trust. Not even Aaron Jackson.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own PJO. Welcome back, everybody!**

CHAPTER 1

I am running at a million miles an hour, refusing to stop and gauge my surroundings. I am surrounded by green and darkness, that's all I need to know. In the dark, I will be safe. The trees that encircle me cast dark green shadows on my skin, like thick black arms reaching out for me, digging canyons into my skin. My hair is full of twigs and leaves, hot and sweaty against my scalp. My lungs heave with every breath, pain sparkling through my nerves, my muscles aching for sweet oxygen. My arms shoot up and down, up and down, trying to get momentum and I don't think I can.

I finally skid to a halt and crouch behind a low tree, furiously searching for a better hiding place. I spot a thick bush and throw myself at it's feet, crawling under it's thick branches. Dirt clogs my nose, my mouth, my eyes, branches smack against my face. After a moment, I pause, my breathing stopped and the bush settled. There is quiet.

A hand suddenly erupts through the leaves and grabs the back of my shirt. I gasp and try to fight back, but my captor is too strong and manages to pull me out.

"Yes!" Aaron shouts. "I win! I _finally _win!" Aaron holds me up by the collar of my tank top, somehow able to hold me up without tearing the fabric. I blow a stubborn hair out of my line-of-vision.

"You forget," I say sweetly as I smile at him, almost pitying him. "That's only fifty percent of the game."

His face goes worried. "Wait, so I-"

He doesn't get to finish, because my foot jams into his knee. He drops me and I land gracefully on my feet. Aaron doesn't even get the chance to fall down, poor thing, before I grab his arm, twist it back, and force him to his knees, then to his chest. He blindly kicks my leg, but the hit is badly aimed and I barely feel it.

"No fair!" He shouts into the dirt.

"Completely fair." I state. While he tries to wrestle from my grip, I simply hold him in place, happy that his greater strength is, for once, at a disadvantage. I laugh a little, watching him only dig himself deeper and deeper into the dirt. I take the time to notice how his hair has an almost blue tint in the sun, how his tan goes past normal tan lines, and the small patch of sweat staining his tank at the small of his back.

I am Aspasia and he is Aaron. It is August in Camp Half-Blood and the world is glorious.

After a while, Aaron's body relaxes and I let go of my grip. I slide down to my knees, then to a sitting position next to him. He is gasping for breath, dirt stained on the fabric of his shirt and the creases on his face. He looks at me and bumps me with my elbow.

"Cheater."

"Yeah." I run a hand through my hair, painfully detangling it. "Keep telling yourself that." I become aware of a thick layer of sweat on my skin and feel dirty for a moment. Then, I look into Aaron's eyes and the thought vanishes.

"When can we be done with training?" He lays back, sitting up on his elbows.

"A true warrior is never done with training." I lay on my side next to him. He takes my hand in his. "You must keep learning, fighting, growing stronger and stronger, and you must know that you'll never be strong enough." My heart is pounding fast, and it's not because of the training.

"Wow, how Yoda of you."

"What's a Yoda?" I raise an eyebrow at him. He lets go of my hand in fake disgust.

"I'm breaking up with you." He rolls his eyes and lays flat on his back. "Seriously, how can you not know about Star Wars?"

"Whatever." Of all my flaws, Aaron worries about my exposure to pop culture. I lay back next to him and Aaron wraps an arm around my shoulder. I know I shouldn't stiffen at his touch, not after how long we've been together, but I do. He understands and pulls his arm back, clasping his hands behind his head. I feel bad for it and curl close to his chest. He smells like Old Spice and sweat.

So this is contentment.

It has been three months since my run in with Chaos. Since then, nothing extraordinarily unusual has happened. Older, more powerful monsters have been found in the Wild places, but Chiron is hesitant to blame Chaos for that. He has also forbidden me to leave the camp, since I got lost in the ends of the earth and was almost killed last time I did. Yeah, I don't blame him.

But in that time, me and Aaron, I don't know, became _official_. He holds my hands sometimes (though we always seems to get in that awkward moment when we try to hold hands one way then try another and it ends up we're just slapping each other's hands). I was at his father's birthday celebration, smiling as Annabeth shoved a piece of bright blue cake in his face. Our training sessions stay the same, ending a lot like this one did. Sometimes I read classics to him as we sit by the lake or under a tree. He calls me babe sometimes(I don't know how I feel about that yet). But despite all this, a nagging fear eats away inside of me that I'm not _normal_ enough for him.

Granted, Aaron is far from normal. He cried when we watched Bridge to Terabithia, he's scared of spiders, and he can't stand it when his foods touch. But at least he _knows_ how to be a boyfriend. He knows when to hold hands and when to touch me and where and how and what to say. And he knows how it's suppose to feel.

I know nothing.

Still, these three months have been the happiest three months of my life. Like I was living behind a veil for sixteen years and now, someone came and tore it away and I finally see.

Of course, that someone also likes to make out a lot, but that's another issue in it's entirety.

"How much longer can we stay like this?" Aaron whispers. He lets his arm drop to drape over me and this time I let him, savoring the feel of his skin against mine.. I know he's talking about this instant, right now, but I begin to wonder how long this happiness, this joy, this _contentment_ can last.

"A little while longer." I decide.

_Ahem_, a stern voice says in my head.

I sigh and sit up. "Hello, Argent. Did we lose you there for a second?" Argent, my guardian angel, or guardian stag, stands noble and imposing a few feet away. His silver fur is immaculate and clean, his golden horns: shining. His face? Filled with disapproval.

_Lady Princess_, he says. _I heartily suggest that this... __**training**__ session come to an end._

Aaron sits up. "What's ole Rudolf saying now?" I suppress a giggle as Argent glares at him. If you've never seen a magical stag glare, it's pretty fascinating, actually.

"I think we're done for the day." I stand up and brush off my legs. Argent nods and begins walking back to the Camp. Aaron sighs and stands up. "Wanna grab some lunch?" I ask.

"Can't." He frowns. "After I shower, my mom wants to get me all packed up." His words make my heart ache. Aaron returns to school in two weeks. After that, I'll be back being alone. Not truly alone, I'll have Jean and Charlie. But without Aaron, I fear that I'll disappear again.

"Alright." I say, hiding my discontent with a smile. "I'll see you later then." I turn to follow Argent. Aaron grabs my hand as I turn. I look back and he smiles his beautiful mischievous happy Aaron smile.

"Later, babe." He pulls me close and I think he's going to kiss me, which is weird because we don't normally kiss randomly, and I start having a mini-panic attack when all he does is brush my hair from my face and kisses my forehead. He smiles again, then begins walking to his Cabin. I find myself smiling.

Yeah, I think I like being called babe.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 2

After I finish my shower, I dress in sweatpants and a paint stained t-shirt. I take a walk over to Jean's cabin as I wring out my hair. I open the door when a huge explosion goes off and a huge puff of black smoke fills the room.

"Well that was a complete surprise. Last time, the smoke was blue." Jean's voice is the only thing in the smoke as I cough and wave my hand in front of my face, trying to clear the smoke.

"Jean," I sputter. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Aspasia!" The smoke swirls a bit and Jean is revealed, his smoke stained lab coat and goggles making him look like a mad scientist. When he pulls off the goggles, His eyes and the surrounding skin are so perfectly clean in comparison to his soot covered face, it's a little hilarious. "Hi. You can help by opening the windows."

"What are you doing?" I repeat, following his instructions. I vaguely see Charlie, Jean's best friend and now apparently his lab partner, in the smoke, trying to open the window opposite of me.

"I was trying to see if I could enhance my magic with a potion." Jean said simply, using the door as a giant fan, trying to push the smoke out, and effectively doing nothing to help. Eventually though, the smoke settles and clears and all that's left is an unpleasant flavor left in my mouth.

I smile sadly at Jean. His mother is Hecate, goddess of magic. But he inherited no magic of his own. Only the ability to give people dreams, which came from his father, a son of Morpheus, the god of dreams. He was very proud of his gift and it was a wonderful ability for someone sweet and feisty like Jean. But his siblings treated him like an outsider, a stranger in his own home, and he was, no matter what he said, desperate to fit in. Maybe that's why I love him so much, this outsider of a boy.

Of course, it's easier to be his friend when he isn't always blowing things up.

"Obviously," Charlie says as he brushes soot off of a chair and sits. "The potion wasn't very successful."

"I'm certain I'm very close to the solution." Jean says, crossing his arms. "I just need to stabilize the solution."

"Right, I could tell by the, ya know, explosion." I share a smile with Charlie. Jean rolls his eyes and takes off his lab coat, pulling out a hanky and wiping down his face.

Charlie and Jean have been best friends since they met on the expedition to rescue me from the Darker Woods (actually, they were there to capture me, but we don't talk about that). Charlie had been grievously injured and Jean had taken care of him, defending him while he was weak and nursing him back to health. Thus, a friendship was born out of suffering and pain. I would describe their relationship as tender and filled with awe. Charlie treated Jean so kindly, like a little brother, and Jean looked at Charlie with such wonder in his eyes. They were friends and they were my friends.

I sit on the window sill. "I just got finished with training."

"Mhm. Any smooching?" Jean asked.

I laughed awkwardly. "No, Argent stopped us before we could get to the good stuff." Charlie and Jean share a glance and laugh quietly. "What?" I ask.

"Nothing." Charlie says, making it obvious that it's anything but nothing. "You and Aaron, just... Yeah. Ya know?"

I feel the elephant in the room as I bit my lip. Does everyone know that I'm so confused, that I'm so lost? But still, I admit that I feel kinda icky sometimes about this, but I can never remember being happier. That counts for something, surely. That's enough to forget about the bad part, right?

"Anyways," Jean says, breaking the awkward silence. "Did you see that thing in the arena? Like, this _huge _cage thing with this sheet over it. I just went in to feed Mrs. O'Leary when I saw it. I think there might be something alive in there, I heard these noises and-"

"Why were you feeding Mrs. O'Leary?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Someone has to." Jean says, defensive. "And I like dogs. What of it?"

I smile and hold up my hands in defeat. Charlie starts talking about some book he's been reading the last few days and Jean asks questions that should be on the SAT or whatever. I close my eyes and let their warm voices wash over me and I'm glad they're my friends.

I'm standing in line for dinner, tapping my foot in impatience, when I feel a hand sneak it's way around my hips. I yelp and, before I can think, I whip my elbow back to smack them in the face.

"Hello to you to." Aaron says, catching my elbow in his huge hand inches from his face. He grins and I relax.

"I hate it when you do that." I say, trying to scowl.

"I love it when you react like that." I smile and bump my shoulder against his chest playfully. "So," I say. "How's the packing going, Jackson?"

He sighs deeply. "Horribly. I know I'm kinda OCD about a few things."

"Kinda?" I interrupt. "Really? You're gonna go with that?"

"_But_ I'm nothing like my mom. I mean, she makes charts just to see what should take up the largest percentage of space in a suitcase."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow.

Aaron rubs his eyes in frustration. "No. It's called a hyperbole. It's used for emphasize. My mom just likes to be in control of everything."

"Why didn't you just say that?" I ask, confused.

"'Cause I, ugh, never mind, you wouldn't understand." He doesn't elaborate and I don't ask him to. I cross my arms, frowning subtly. _I'm_ _not stupid_, I think. I let my anger simmer on this for a while. But after a while, Aaron bumps my arm and we make eye contact and his gray eyes are grinning and I smile back.

"So, Williams," He says. "By the way, where did you get your last name?"

"What do ya mean?"

"I mean, your dad didn't have a last name. I mean, I _assume_ he didn't, but I might be wrong. I'm just wondering where you got it."

I smile slightly. "Williams goes good with my name. I picked it when I was five. I never thought about changing it since." I shrug.

Aaron nods, musing over this. "Aspasia Williams." He puts a finger to his lips, thinking. Then, grinning devilishly, he says, "Aspasia Jackson."

The smile melts off my face and I look away from him, twisting my fingers together, a wave of nausea washing over me. Aaron reacts instantly, brushing my cheek with his hand tenderly. I flinch away.

"What's wrong? What did I say?" He asks.

"Nothing." I let out a breath. I look back at him through the corner of my eye and I know that he knows that it isn't nothing. But the line starts moving and I walk through quickly, getting some pesto whatever with chicken something and bread with cheese. I sit down, alone, at my table and tear into it. Bread is awesome. It's so nice and fluffy and tasty. And with cheese, it's like, really good. Bread and cheese are always there. Bread and cheese don't make implications about the future that make you uncomfortable with yourself.

After everyone has eaten the majority of their meal, Chiron stands and raises his goblet to get everyone's' attention. After the cafeteria falls into silence, he says, "Welcome heroes. As some of you may have heard, there' a little... _surprise_ in the arena." I make eye contact with Jean, who gives me a look that says, _Told you so_.

"It will be a training exercise for tomorrow." Chiron continues. "You'll need to be paired up and suited up by eleven tomorrow to participate. However, I must warn you," He smiles his knowing smile. "You might reconsider participating after you see the challenge."

After that semi-awkward moment, I consider partnering with Jean, but I when I look over, he's grinning at Charlie. I sigh. My best friend sucks.

When I look over at Aaron, he's smiling, shyly. Aaron doesn't smile _shyly_. His uneasiness somehow endears him to me and I give him a warm smile in return.

Yup, still have no idea what I'm doing.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 3

I'm stretching in the fighter's quarters beneath a bustling arena. My worn leather armor is stiff against my movements and my quiver is chafing my neck slightly. My hair is pulled back in a simple braid, but I feel the heat of it pressed against my scalp like a hot sweater.

The fighter's quarters are directly below the actual arena, with corridors opening up in the sides of the fighting space, reminiscence of gladiatorial arenas.

"Hey." I turn around and smile at Aaron. His bronze armor is shining in the dim light of a few flickering fluorescents. His thick hair is slicked back from his face, kept from falling into his vision while trapped in a helmet. His sword is sheathed by his side as he strides confidently to me. "Looking good."

I'm acutely aware of the sweat trickling down the back of my neck and the fact that my armor may or may not be a hand-me-down from the Trojan War. "Hunters don't wear armor." I gesture down to myself. "This isn't really my thing."

Aaron puts his hands on my hips and pulls me into him. "I think you look perfect," He says, placing a light kiss of the tip of my nose. I surprise myself and allow my body melt into the perfect contours of his. His kind of hear comforts me compared to the stuffy heat of the quarters.

We're approached by a pair of young campers, possibly second years. Their eyes are huge as they take in the marvel of Aaron. He lets me out of his arms and turns to them, putting on a winning smile.

"Hey guys," He says, like he knows them personally. "What's up?"

"Hi Aaron." One of them says reverently with a voice that's barely dipped into puberty. "Are you and your girl fighting today?"

Aarons nods. "Together, not against each other, which is crazy, I know, but..." His voice drones out for me as I muse over what he said. Not the fact the kid knew me through Aaron, which I'm fine with people not knowing who I am. It's the preposition. _Your_. Like I am Aaron's. And while I admit that I maybe feel some kind of sense of _belonging_, I will never be anyone's but my own.

"Is she a good fighter?" The other kid asks.

"The best," Aaron confirms. "A thousand times better than me." Despite the compliments, the fact that they decide to talk about me while I'm _right_ here rubs me the wrong way.

"Aaron is stronger and bigger." I interject. "And he has strategies stored away in that big brain of his."

Aaron gives me a weird glance from the corner of his eye. "But still," He says. "It's there's ever a fight, bet on the lady."

The kids nod and walk off, giggling to themselves like they've met celebrities or someone important like that.

My skin crawls thinking that that might actually be me.

"Using a sword?" I nod to his weapon, trying to shake away my thoughts.

"For the moment." He says.

"What?"

"You don't think I would just step into an arena with _just_ a sword _and _no tricks." He smiles big.

"I seem to remember a time," I muse. "Where you fought with a certain _lady_ with a normal sword. And you were resoundingly beaten."

"And from that, I've learned my lesson." Aaron sits on one of the benches, readjusting his armor. He makes eye contact with me and grins. "Come here." He growls mischievously and pulls me into his lap, tickling me. I try and wiggle free, but his arm is strong around my body. I eventually work my way free, breathless and airy.

"Okay," I say, gasping. "Settle down now." He laughs and I stiffly smile as the oxygen returns to my blood. Do people normally just _touch_ each other? Is it this easy?

"Alright, challengers." Chiron stands in the doorway in full horse form. He wears a blue stripped shirt, his curly brown hair combed neatly, perhaps with a little more gray than usual. He smiles and clasps his hands together. "If you could, please, follow me." He clops down the darkened corridor and we all follow, some mute from nervousness, from giggling in excitement, and some breathing and thinking. Aaron and I fall into the third category. All in all, there are about 11 pairs.

The corridor opens up to a blazing arena, filled with the orange of campers. The scream like the Roman mob, waiting for the action. The covered "surprise" stands as tall as a school bus is long. It moves slightly in some places, as if by wind, but it hangs in such a way that it makes me think it's magic and what's underneath is a complete mystery.

"Demigods!" Chiron's voice is booming and official. He holds his hands up to capture their attention. "Mr. D and I have planned an exciting farewell challenge to our campers who will leave soon for the mortal world."

The mention of the end of summer makes me frown. I search the crowd for Mr. D, spotting him near the top. He has a glass of wine in hand and may or may not be passed out, but who can say?

"Let the challenge," Chiron says. "Be revealed!"

He waves his hands and the sheet vanishes in a puff of purple smoke. What it revealed leaves all the challengers speechless and the crowd boisterous and excited.

It's a huge semi-circle, the flat side on the ground, made out of wood and steel. There are large mysterious holes punched through the surface. After a moment, I hear a deep rumble and see a great beast emerge from one of these holes, a serpent of some sort, gray green with shining scales, yellow eyes, and huge teeth. It roars ferociously and begins diving in the holes and reemerging from others.

"Your challenge," Chiron says, pulling a drachma from his shirt pocket. "Is to retrieve this drachma." He flips the coin and it flies over and lands in the middle of the sphere. Okay, difficult. Then, Chiron snaps his fingers and the orb begins to move. _Literally_ spinning, like it's actually a whole sphere built into the ground and someone is twirling it random ways.

I swallow hard. There's the challenge of finding a single drachma on a spinning sphere, then factoring in the serpent. I glance over at Aaron, but he seems distracted by the joyous crowd. He smiles at them and waves at them humbly, or at least, _pretending_ to be humble. The other pairs are looking stricken, the young campers looking ready to throw up.

"Any volunteers?" Chiron, smiling in the way an adult does when they've given you an impossibly difficult challenge.

There's no hesitation when Aaron shouts, "We will go first. We'll kick this snake's ass!" He takes my hand and holds it up, already acting victorious.

I hate my life.


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own PJO.**

**Is anyone else annoyed with everything that I write? Or is it just me?**

CHAPTER 4

"I can't believe you." I say, looking straight at Aaron.

"C'mon. We'll do fine." He's not even glancing at me, his face is turned to the adoring crowd. "We had to do it some time, why not first?"  
"Because trying to get all the attention simply for attention's sake is disgusting." I grab his shoulder and turn him to face me. "Will you listen?"

"Chill out!" He breaks form my grip. "What's your problem?"

"What's _yours_?"

"Ahem." Chiron coughs. We turn abruptly, not looking at each other. "Well, are you two ready?"

"Apparently." I mutter. Aaron simply nods.

"Alright then," Chiron says. "Begin!"

Aaron charges forward, jumping onto the moving sphere with confidence. The crowd roars. I roll my eyes and take a more strategic approach, climbing on the opposite side.

The movement is disorienting, but I'm able to to get a handle on it quickly. The giant serpent roars and glares down at me.

"Of course," I say. "You pick me first."

It bares it's teeth and strike, lightning fast. But I'm faster and I sidestep, it's jaws crushing the wood of the sphere. I run as it tries to shake loose, my eyes searching for the golden sheen of the drachma. I spot it, stuck in between two planks. I dive for it when I collide with Aaron. Our heads knock right against each other as we fall to the ground.

"What are you doing?" He asks angrily, rubbing his head.

"Winning. In case you forgot." I shake loose the disorientation and slap my hand over the coin. Only it's not there.

"C'mon!" I spit.

"Look out!" Aaron grabs my body and rolls over, narrowly avoiding being swallowed by the serpent, who crashed down centimeters beside us. I push Aaron off, jumping to my feet. The snake recoils, shaking it's head.

"If we can get on it," Aaron says quickly. "We can subdue it quicker."

"

My bow is in my hands and I shoot an arrow into it's left eye, hitting it dead on. The snake roars in rage and glares down at me with it's one good eye, greenish blood running down the other side of it's face. Aaron is on his feet, his sword drawn next to me.

"I don't think I'll be able to get the other one." I say.

"Try." He growls. "I'll go left, distract it." Without another word he's rushing towards it, shouting obscene curses. I grit my teeth but obey. I try to navigate into a good spot, but the moving ground and the moving snake don't make it easy.

The serpent hisses loudly and strikes at Aaron. He expertly dodges, slipping forward and falling to his knees. He's up in a second and he slashes the snake. But it's scales are so hard, the sword does nothing. I make a shot for the other eyes, but it just barely misses and bounces off the scales. The snake hisses in fury and shoots down one of the holes, it's massive body following it like a bizarre arch.

"You missed!" Aaron shouts. "How could you miss?!"

"What did you think you were gonna do?" I shout back. "Slice of it's head?"

The snake reappears out from another hole. Problem is, it's the hole right next to me. It make a snap at me and I scramble back nimbly. Right into another one of the holes. Instinct take in and I somehow do a full split, propping myself on both sides of the circle. The serpent barrels down form above me, it's maw opened wide to swallow me whole.

Suddenly, Aaron barrels right over me as the snake is inches from eating me, tackling it's huge head and knocking it aside. Dazed, the serpent can only shake it's head free of Aaron. Quick as can be, Aaron brings his sword down, hard, on the snake's lower jaw. It goes through, digging into the wood. The snake struggles, but Aaron twists the hilt of the sword and suddenly there are three blades sprouting from the hilt and there spinning, drilling into the wood. The snake's jaw is left gaping open.

"Take the shot!" He shouts. I don't hesitate, drawing back the arrow and letting it fly into the abyss of the snake's throat. It jerks, stiffens, then relaxes, turning to a long piece of string. The sphere stops moving and I pull myself onto the solid wood, dizziness clouding my mind and my legs burning and my eyes scrunched up in pain. When I open them for a millisecond, I see the shining gold of the drachma, right in front of me. I grab it and hold it up in weary victory. I'm gasping and when I look at Aaron, I know the anger and frustration in his face is reflected in mine.

"Well," Chiron says loudly. "I guess we won't have any more challenges for today."


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 5

I'm letting the water rush over my body, letting the steam melt off my skin, resting my head against the cool tile.

I'm really glad Cabin 8 has it's own bathroom. It really cuts down on the amount of time I have to actually interact with people.

After a few minutes, I turn off the shower, towel off, and slip into sweatpants and sweatshirt twice times my size. I try to remember where I got it, but then I remember it's Aaron's. I consider taking it off, but leave it on, smelling it deeply. I rummage through the small refrigerator we have and pull out a carton of chocolate ice cream. Grabbing a large spoon, I pop off the lid and take in a big mouthful. It's cold and sweet and runs down the corners of my mouth. Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I go over to my speakers, connect my iPod, and play One Direction's "Little Things".

I think I'm having an emotional moment.

I sit down, shoveling ice cream in my mouth, listening to British boys tell me how great I am, and I laugh over the parallels of my life. Only three months ago, I left the arena, running from Aaron, to my cabin, feeling all sorts of new emotions. But that was the beginning, when I thought everything was easier and Aaron and I were just starting, when we were starting out all nice and beautiful. Now, here I am, and I don't even know if we can do this.

I've gotten through almost half the carton when I hear a knock on the door. I jam the spoon into the remainder of the ice cream, get up, and open up the door.

Like always, it's Aaron.

"Is this gonna be a reoccurring thing?" I ask defiantly. "We fight, you come over, we have a touching get-back-together moment, and everything gets better?"

"I hope not." He slides past me inside, plopping down on the bed. I shut the door and look at him, looking at me. He's wearing a paint stained white shirt and basketball shorts. His eyes are gray and stormy.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"No." I say. "You?"

"No." I nod and, after turning off the music, plop down next to him. He reaches over and pull out my spoon, scooping up a big mouthful and swallowing it quickly.

"Jerk." I mutter. He nods, pulling my legs into his lap.

"I know." he says. "I know I'm a jerk, but can we please talk about this?"

I run a hand through my tangled hair. If I didn't brush it soon, it'd be like this for a lifetime. "Sure, but you start." I say.

Aaron smiles. "That's not how it works. You gotta tell me how you feel, Aspasia." I grimace and his smile drops. "Yeah, I know how much you hate actually communicating with people, but you're gonna have to this time."

"And if I don't want to?" I challenge.

"Well, you're gonna have to get over that! Aspasia, you have to let me, please, stop trying to shut me out, okay? What are you so afraid of?" He's yelling now and he's on his feet and now I am too.

"I'm not _afraid _of anything!" We're in each other's face. "Why do you have to know everything, why do you have to know everyone, why does everyone have to like you?" Now I've started and I can't stop. "You wanna know how I feel? I feel like you're a self-centered little boy who's so conceited and so focused on what other people think about you that you don't even care if you're not even real!" I'm yelling, I yelling so loud. "Can't you just stop trying to make everything perfect scripted movie scenes and just let us be real for a second? Why does it have to take us being angry for us to stop the charade?!"

Aaron opens his mouth but he can't say anything. His eyes are misty and he closes his mouth, tightening it into a thin line. He turns to leave, but sways on his feet a little, and just slides down to sit on the ground, he back leaning against the bed. All the anger runs out of me and I deflate onto the floor beside him, legs curled underneath me.

"I'm sorry." I say uneasily. "That was too far, I got angry."

"The sad thing is," Aaron is talking quietly, quickly. "I don't even know, I don't even know what, what I'm doing and I don't even know how to be me, like really me, and here you are and you're just, you're so real and you're so here and I can't- I can't... I can't..."

I hold his hands, trying to be as gentle as I can, because it scares me, it genuinely scares me to see Aaron like this. The only time I've gotten close to seeing this, this sadness that lurks inside Aaron, is that night on Olympus. But I thought he was simply being pensive and talkative. But now, now I know how little Aaron actually knows himself. He's shaking a little, crying now, but not sobbing, more staring and not being able to care about the tears that spill out over his eyes.

"I can't, I'm not real, I'm not real at all, I'm not, but, but you are. You're so real and you're so true and you make everything seem okay and I'm just, I'm just-"

I take his head in my hands and force him to look at me. His eyes, oh, his eyes, they're so gray and sad that they break my heart.

"Look." I say firmly. "I'm not asking you to know who you are. I have _no_ idea who _I _am, how can I ask you to know who you are? I'm not asking you to understand yourself."

"What are you asking?" He's not crying now, just slightly frowning in a way that makes me want to kiss him.

"I'm asking you to just _stop_ pretending with me. What you do for everyone else is your own business and _you_ have to decide how to deal with that." I bite my lip. "Though I wish you could just be real all the time, but that's too much. I'm just asking for you to stop pretending, at least with me, okay?"

He nods slowly and I let go oh his face. He wipes away his tears, his eyes slightly puffy. "Can I say something?" He asks, like a little kid in school. I smile.

"Of course."

"I really wish you could just talk to me about how you feel, ya know."

My smile dies and I turn forward, resting my back against my bed and pulling my tighter into me. Aaron rests a hand on my knee, leaning towards me anxiously.

"Please," He says. "I just need to know, I need to know how you're feeling and I need to know if I'm doing _this_ right-"

"Ha. Like you don't know."

"No. I don't." I look at him and his face is so honest, is so clear. Maybe he really is as confused as me, maybe.

"Okay." I say, nodding. "How about we just swear never to lie to each other, in any way. No pretending, no building walls, nothing."

"Okay." Aaron nods.

"But that means we're actually going to have to do this. And when I tell you to stop faking, you're going to have to listen and not be mad."

"I can't promise anything." He looks a little dubious.

"Neither am I." I smile a little. "But we can try." He smiles too and in an impulse, I pull his face into mine and we kiss in a soft, beautiful way. When I pull back, I lay my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me. Once again, I appreciate the design of his body and how easily I fit into it. After a while, he says, "This is nice, but can we get into that ice cream again, or what?"

**Guys, how do "romance"?**

**Also, new twitter name: .woods**

**Read my Les Miz fanfiction: In the Rain**

**Go old school and read my Hunger Games: Broken Silence**

**If you're really new, read the first Aspasia thingy: Aspasia Williams and the Darker Woods**

**Swaggie.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 6

"Come on!" I yell over my shoulder. "You are _literally_ moving at the speed of a glacier."

"I'm sorry," Aaron, gasping for breath, runs at a slow pace behind me. "That I don't posses endless amounts of energy and stamina."

"You're forgiven." I smile and stop, letting him catch up and regaining my breath. We're deep in the woods, farther than most people come. The trees are denser, the trail harder to find. The creatures, more ancient.

"So where-" Aaron almost keels over, resting his hands on his knees. "Where the hell are we?"

"You wanted me to open up." I say, stretching my calves. "I open up in the woods. It's where I act like me." I bump my hip against him. "Maybe you can be real here too."

Aaron stands to his full height, his tan face flushed. But he's smiling and he looks around, taking in the green and the silence, yet, the _not_ silence. How everything is living, breathing, and growing and it's so, so, _ya know_?

"Come on," I slip my hand in his. "I wanna show you something." We walk down the trail, taking it slowly.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, I- Uhm." At first, I've slipped my fingers between his and then that feels weird and I try and just grasp his palm but that doesn't work and I feel like my hand is a dead fish. But Aaron just laughs and throws his arm over my shoulder. He stinks of sweat and summer. I smile and keep walking.

We talk as we walk, and I like this, because it makes me feel normal. We don't always have to have deep emotional talks or whatever, we can just wonder why the new campers are so annoying and comment on Jean's most recent disastrous experiment. We just talk, and this grounds me.

"Here we are." I stop in front of a thick bush.

"Wow, Aspasia. This... This is really something."

"Shut up." I push him playfully. "I wanted to show you _this_." I lift up one of the branches of the bush, revealing a small, dark hole in the ground. Aaron leans in, curious. I tap the ground with my foot. A moment passes, then a small furry head pokes out of the ground. I smile, Aaron grins. A medium sized rabbit crawls out, eyes huge and slightly awed.

_Lady Princess_, it bows it's head to me. I give a little curtsy-bow thing back.

"Fleetwood, this is Aaron Jackson. Aaron, this is Fleetwood, one of the sentries of the forest."

"Sentries?"

"He patrols the forest, searching for intruders, problems, things like that."

"Well, in that case," Aaron bows grandly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Fleetwood." I laugh, covering my mouth with my hand while Fleetwood looks quite flustered.

_Lady_ _Princess_, Fleetwood says. _I do have news._

"Of course." I sigh. "Go ahead."

_There was a commotion in the Grove of the Satyrs. Something about a strange plant._

"Plants aren't really my thing, Fleetwood."

_Lady Princess, it's said to be attacking the animals that draw near it._

I sigh again and nod. Fleetwood disappears back down his hole and I turn to Aaron. "Looks like there'll be a little detour."

I explain what Fleetwood told me as I walk with Aaron to the Grove. He listens intently, but not too intently. I'm a little annoyed until I realize. At least he's being honest.

We get to the grove, pushing back the deep branches of the trees. Inside the grove, animals, satyrs, and dryads collect around the clearing in nervous groups. They give me side-long glances as we enter.

In the center of the grove, growing around the thrones of the Elders, is some strange plant. Like some vine-like cactus thing. The main, tall tube points to the sky, a violent purple flower bursting upwards. Huge arches of off-shooting plants grow outwards, crashing into the earth and growing even farther. Every square inch of the green white flesh is covered in three inch long needles, the tip of each glistening a sickly purple. The surrounding ground is dry and brown, the grass dead and gone. The air is dry. It's like the desert has forced it's way into the forest.

"Wow." Aaron says.

"Exactly." A dreamy voice says. I turn to my left and I smile. It's Grover Underwood, his curly red hair and stubble vibrant but messy. His chest is bare, his curly brown legs tinted with red. His eyes are sad and gray. His slouched posture is even more slumped today. "Aspasia," He nods at me. "Aaron." He extends a tired hand to each of us.

"What happened?" I ask, confused.

"It appeared about two days ago. It started as a simple sprout, but then it..." He shakes his head.

"What is it?" Aaron asks.

"I don't know. I was going to have one of the Demeter kids to take a look at it, but it's, um, kind of difficult to approach." I get a wave of duplicity, but ignore it.

"So why are my creatures telling me about it?" I cross my arms.

"Because of this." Grover leads us to a more sheltered end of the grove, encircled by willows. He pulls back the wispy branches and I gasp, my hand covering my mouth.

Rows and rows of animals are simply _laying _there. Deers and rabbits and birds and squirrels. Beside them, satyrs and nymphs lay slumped against each other. Worst, they don't sleep. They twitch and groan and whimper, but their eyes are shut in sleep. Once in a while, one will shriek and flail, like it's being dipped in fire, but they will fall back into their restless slumber.

"What happened?" I ask.

"They approached it." Grover's voice is tired. He reaches down and gently picks up a bird, a bright robin. He turns it's body and reveals one of the needles buried an inch deep into it's chest. Purple ooze seeps from the wound. The bird peeps mournfully and Grover strokes it gently, murmuring comforts.

I reach and take the bird from his hands. I try and pull the needle out, but it won't come easily. I grit my teeth and pull it out with a grunt of strength. The bird jerks, then goes still.

"Oh my gods." I drop the dead bird, stepping back quickly. Aaron rushes to me, taking me in his arms.

"It's okay." He whispers. "You didn't know, it's okay, it's okay."

"I just, I just-"

"Obviously," Grover interrupts, scooping up the bird's body. "This is a serious issue." He digs a small grave with the tip of his hoof and places the bird in it, covering it gently. "And it's growing quickly. It'll consume the grove soon, then the whole woods, then-"

"Yeah." I say, angry and sad. "Yeah. I get it." I roll the needle between my fingers. "I'll get this to someone who can tell us what it is. And I promise," I rest my heavy gaze on Grover's eyes. "I promise I'll stop this."


	7. Chapter 7

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 7

"I don't wanna do this." I say.

"I don't either." Jean says. "Which is why I'm not going in with you."

"Wow," I glare at him. "You're an awesome friend."

"I'm your best friend." He shrugs. "Still not going in."

We're standing outside the greenhouses, a little over from the strawberry fields. They are big, ribbed buildings with a green glow. The air on the outside is warm, almost stuffy. The only ones who spend much time in the greenhouses? Children of Demeter.

Yeah.

"Alright." I pull out a plastic baggie from my pocket. Inside, the deadly needle is kept safe. "I'll see ya later, loser." Jean smirks and I walk inside.

The heat is even more intense, but I hardly notice it, because everything is so beautiful. Roses and lilies of such bright colors, they almost hurt my eyes. The air is hot, but thick with the scent of a thousand flowers. Vines travel up the banisters that hold the building up. There are little raised garden beds that line thin gravel walkways. Small, strange plants grow in every available square inch of dirt. Tall trees manage to grow, branches heavy with fruit. Strange flowers glow in the darker recesses of the greenhouse. I reach down to touch a plant that is tall with only tight pods on it. As soon as my fingers brush it, the pods burst into vibrant fuchsia and white flowers. I smile.

Wandering among the plants, with dripping hoses and dirty working gloves, skinny campers work. Most have freckles, green eyes, and hair ranging from deep brown to strawberry blonde. All except...

"Aspasia. What are you doing here?"

I sigh and look to my side. It's Colette, her annoying perfect British accent pristine as ever, her platinum hair pinned back from her face, but flowing luxuriously. Her clothes, gods, her clothes. You know when you watch advertisements and they show these people doing normal stuff, like shopping or gardening or something, but they're all dressed so classy that it's a little ridiculous? Well, that's Colette, standing there with her garden gloves and a spade, her lace high-low peach colored skirt, her cute little gray boots, and a short sleeved ruffled floral top. I feel a little ridiculous in my jeans and tank top, but I think about the one thing that I have and Cosette doesn't: Aaron. And I didn't have to wear a fifty dollar shirt to get him.

"Hi, Colette." I brush off my pants and hold out the baggie. "I need you to take a look at this."

She doesn't take it. "Why?"

"Because it's an explosive and I'm hoping that while you look at it, it blows you to the moon." I say sardonically. "Because it's important, _that's_ why."

She scoffs and snatches the bag from my hand. She takes it to a work table covered in a thin layer of dirt and I follow her. She brushes the soil aside and lays the bag gently on the table.

"Where did it come from?" She asks stiffly as she pulls out the needle gently.

"A cactus thing in the woods."

"That's absurd. Cacti don't grow in the woods."

_Of course_, I think. _You're classy enough to say, cacti_. "Well, considering it was a cactus thing and it came from the woods, I think we can say that cac_ti_ do grow in the woods."

She looks at the needle closely. "Why is it so important, Aspasia?"

"Because it's hurting the animals. And the satyrs and the nymphs." I bit my lip. "And it's growing."

She's quite for a bit, scraping off some of the purple ooze onto her spade and looking at intently. She smells it and I'm almost hoping she licks it and drops over into an eternal slumber. I'm kidding, obviously. Obviously.

"Your challenge in the arena the other day was interesting." She says all of a sudden. "You and Aaron... It was pretty amusing."

"Yeah, the making out that followed was pretty fun." I cross my arms and let the arrow hit it's target. She stiffens and looks over at me, the anger just simmering beneath the surface. Her eyes are the palest blue, so pale they're almost gray. Funny how I never noticed. I almost feel bad, because there was a moment, an _instant_ after everything that happened that she was kind to me. Now, ugh, now we're _here_. She sets the needle down and faces me, almost like she's going to punch me.

_Please do_, I think, shifting my weight evenly on both of my feet. If she punches me, oh, I'll finally get to rub that snooty little face of hers into the dirt so hard-

"It's not natural."

"Really?" I respond, still itching for a fight.

"Yes. I can confirm that it's a cactus of some sort. But this secretion, that's what's strange." She picks up her spade and holds it out to me. "Smell this."

I wrinkle my nose as I slowly take it from her gloved hand. "This better not kill me." I mutter.

"If only." She says under her breath. I glare at her and sniff the ooze.

An image hits me like lightning. My mother, killing my father. Weeping over his body. And then I am my mother and Aaron is my father and I've killed him and the pain, ah, the pain, the pain, I can't, I-

I drop the spade, taking halting steps back. My hands are shaking and my heart is racing. I make eye contact with Colette and the contempt in her eyes hurts, it really does.

"Fear inducing venom." She says. "Or something like that." She picks up the spade and tosses it on the table. "Whatever it is, where ever it comes from," Her eyes harden. "It's serious."

"Why didn't you freak out?" I ask. "Why didn't you get scared when you smelt it?"

"My fear is much more present than yours." Her face is emotionless.

I don't know what to say. I look into her face and I feel so bad, so bad for her that I don't know what to do. So, after a moment, I simply walk out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Guys, I will never be happy until Burdge Bug does fan art for my stuff.**

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 8

I'm sitting cross legged on my bed, dressed in a sweatshirt and running shorts, my still damp hair tied up in a ponytail with a heavy book in my lap, munching absently on some Doritos.

A knock on the door makes me snap the book closed, toss in on my bed, and cover it with my pillow before I answer the door.

"Hey." It's Aaron and he walks in without invitation. I sigh.

"Hi." I say. "I'm kinda in the middle of something."

"Don't worry, I won't bother you."

I cross my arms and look at him pointedly. "Really? Cause you look like you're in the mood to _bother_ me."

"What did Colette say about the needle?" He asks.

"It's definitely magic, or something. It makes you scared." I shiver. "Like the way Chaos makes you feel." I look at Aaron and his face is full of understanding.

"Did you tell Chiron?"

I nod. "Yeah, he's calling a council meeting tomorrow. You're invited, I guess."

"Awesome. Another epic adventure in store?"

"Gods, I hope not." He grins and jumps on my bed. Of course, he instantly finds the book and is holding it close to his face for inspection.

"What's this?" He asks. I try and snatch it form his grasp, but he pulls it away from me.

"Nothing." I say.

"Right." He raises an eyebrow. "Honesty, remember?"

"It really doesn't matter." I say, sitting in front of him on the bed.

"Then just tell me, okay?" He says, hopeful.

I sigh and hold my hand out to him. Aaron smiles and hands over the book happily. I open the ancient, heavy book and say, "Do you remember when Chaos had us, and she tried to kill me with-"

"With her creepy blood green stuff?" He sits criss-cross and scoots so his knees touch mine. "Yeah, I vaguely remember that."

I roll my eyes. "Well, you remember that... That _light_? That light thing that, ya know-"

"Shot out of you like a friggin' lightning bolt and smacked Chaos like it was a bad girl fight?"

"Yes. Yes, that little incident." I glare at him "Do you wanna talk, or can I continue and not be interrupted?"

"Go on." Aaron says, perfectly innocent.

"Well, I've been doing some research and I think I've found something. I flip through the pages until I found the picture I'm looking for and I turn the book around for Aaron to see.

The picture is on yellowed, aged pages, the edges frayed with time. The picture is painted with ancient dyes and depicts a maiden leaping across a night sky, glowing with power. And she tosses glowing orbs up to the sky to glowing figures of bears and serpents and hunters. But beneath them, darken figures hold up their hands to them and from their raised palms, a silvery glow come sup and becomes part of the maiden, part of the orbs, part of the figures.

Aaron looks at the picture intently, taking the book from my hands and examining it closely. He smiles at the page and rubs his fingers over the edges. "Do you often eat Doritos while eating ancient texts?" I roll my eyes and he smiles. Then, he closes the book and says, "What do you think it means?"

"Well," I push a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Your dad told me something about it when we were in the hospital. He said that the light, the 'astral energy', was from the hopes and dreams that people place on the stars."

"Like people with the sun?"

"Yes." I nod. "But it's more than that. The people, in the picture, I mean, they were giving that glow, that hope or whatever-"

"The astral energy."

"They were giving it to the girl, who I guess is Artemis or something, but they were giving it to the stars too."

"So?" Aaron asks quizzically.

"So, my dad is a constellation." Those words feel really weird and I grab a pillow to hug it. "So what if I'm... part _star_?"

Aaron hols my gaze for a moment and I almost think he's gonna say something sweet or philosophical. I brace myself for it, but then I realize he's grinning wickedly.

"My girlfriend is a star?" He laughs. "_Literally_."

I throw my pillow at him and he catches it, laughing into it. "I hate you." I say.

"Okay, okay." He lays on his side and props up his head with his arm. "So what does this mean?"

"Well," I lay parallel next to him. "Last time we fought Chaos-"

"_We_." He mutters. I ignore him.

"I was able to use it as like, some kind of defense or something. And it _worked_. So maybe, maybe if I can find a way to, ya know, _harness_ it, maybe we'll stand a chance against her."

"You used it that one time." He says. "When were in the meadow. And you made all those lights come up."

"Yeah." I blush, thinking about what followed. "But I don't really know where that came from. Maybe it's an emotional thing. Your dad says his powers were connected to his emotions at first. So maybe I have to be angry or scared for them to work."

"You weren't angry or scared in the meadow." Aaron raises his eyebrow.

I swallow hard. "No. No, I wasn't."

"And since I think those emotions are easier to recreate..." He pulls me in next to him, his breath warm across my face. It's weird, it's like he's breathing into every single pore, every single goose bump. My body is right up against him and I realize, maybe we fit together perfectly, but maybe we don't. I think it's just nice to have another body next to me, pressing against you.

"I have to warn you," I whisper as his lips gently touch down on my forehead, my nose. "I did just devour half a bag of Doritos."

He laughs. "Great. I get to make out with you _and_ have my favorite chips at the same time."

"Wow," I put a hand on his chest and push away. "That killed the mood." I sit up and Aaron, sighing in frustration, sits up as well, right behind me. He rubs my neck and, despite it making me even tenser at first touch, I let him.

"Okay," He says. "So you need to be able to use this thing, this energy whatever. How are you gonna do it?"

"I thought up some emotional exercises. And some, ya know, meditation stuff and whatever. Maybe I can start training my heart and my mind and yeah..."

"So we're adding _emotional training_ to our routine?"

"Hey, I never said I was including you in this." I whip my head around to look at him, smacking him with my wet ponytail. "I don't want you to have to deal with all of my emotional... _Whatever_."

"Which is a nice way of saying you don't want me to get too close to you." He rests his chin on my shoulder, his face really close to mine, but his eyes have no intent to kiss. "Come on, Aspasia. Let me help you."

I sigh. "Fine. If it makes you happier."

He grins. "Great. Now I can finally see you struggle with something." I roll my eyes and, grabbing his face, push him away. He laughs and falls back onto the bed. He wraps his legs around me and pulls me close. I lay on top of him, resting my weight on his muscular body. His hands trail along my back, toying with my hair.

"You're pretty amazing, Ms. Williams." He says, looking deeply into my eyes.

I smile. "As are you, Mr. Jackson." He grins and I plant a quick peck on his lips.


	9. Chapter 9

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 9

I believe that if I were sent into eternal punishment, it would look very much like a council meeting.

Will Critcher, the Hephaestus leader, manufactured a huge, strange metal table with scaly legs, long enough for all of us to sit comfortably. I sit at the middle on the right, slouched in my chair as far as I can, hoping I'll disappear. Across from me is Aaron, representing Poseidon. Charlie sits to his right, for Athena. Next to him is Micheal Parker, the snarky dark haired kid from Apollo. On the other side of Aaron is Daryl Weeks from Ares, whose running the tip of his knife under his dirty fingernails, and next to him, Robert Thomas for Hermes, whose shaggy brown hair sits right along his eyebrows, with Will next to him.

On my left is Emmaline Aplin, a green eyed, chocolate haired beauty who's nice enough from Aphrodite. On the other side of her is Colette. Jean sits on my right, which I don't understand how he weaseled his way into this meeting. Chiron, in his wheelchair form, sits at the head, with Mr. D lounging in a lawn chair.

"Now, we all understand why we've gathered." Chiron begins, his voice grave. "A few days ago, a strange plant appeared in the grove of the satyrs. Colette has examined the plant and has concluded how dangerous it is."

"It infects it's victims with _fear_. They become stuck in an endless nightmare, for which I don't believe there's a cure."

"Why can't we just cut it out?" Daryl asks, not bothering to look up.

"We can't." Colette sighs. "Anyone who approaches it becomes infected."

"Then burn it." Will suggests.

"Those who try and burn it become infected too." Colette says. "The plant seems capable of _launching_ the needles. It's like it can... Attack." We all are silent for a moment, thinking.

"Isn't there a certain _god_ here who can help?" Micheal says, looking pointedly at Mr. D. He looks up, bored and bloodshot.

"Cacti aren't my forte." He says simply and returns to his magazine. I roll my eyes. Immortals are useless.

"Where did it come from?" Charlie asks.

"We're not sure." Chiron says.

"Well, I think it's obvious." I say. They all lock eyes on me and I sigh under the pressure of their gazes. "Well, the only person out there who would want to mess with us is Chaos. Unless someone else knows of a deity who wants to blast away the world?" I look around the table for suggestions. "No? Well then."

"But we're asking how it _got_ here." Micheal eyes hardens.

"Does it matter?" I say, getting insolent. "How about we just deal with it?"

"_If _it was Chaos," Charlie cuts in. "I think it is safe to assume she has some sick plan." I'm a little angry, because Charlie annoys me when he is logical and reasonable when I'm not.

"What does she want to happen?" Emmaline says softly. "Wait for one plant to dominate the whole world?"

"No." Aaron says. "Chaos is patient, she's been waiting for all of time for this, but if she's made a play, if she's made a move that really counts, it'll be one that works fast."

"What's the growth rate of the plant?" Chiron asks.

"About two and a half feet a day." Colette answers. We all stare dumbfounded, because this is not good, nope, this isn't good.

"The grove is twelve feet around." I murmur. We all take a moment to work out the math in our head.

"That's about four days."

"Till it out grows the grove."

"Then the forest."  
"And the camp."

"Alright." Chiron says firmly. "This is obviously more serious than we first thought. I believe our oracle might have something to say for a seeker." He looks around the table for volunteers. His gaze lingers on me for a moment longer than the rest, but I only disappear more into my seat. _Not this year_, I think. _No way, Chiron._

"I think Aaron should lead the quest." I say loudly. Everyone looks at Aaron and, after a moment, begin nodding in agreement. I look at Aaron, expecting him to be happy, but I see his eyes stormy with anger. I sigh inwardly. Really, Aaron? That was a nice thing I just did. Can I please just do nice things once in a while?

"If we're all in agreement," Chiron says, looking around the table for any objections. When he finds none, he looks proudly at Aaron and says, "Then, my boy, you may go to Rachel."

Aaron pushes back from the table and rises slowly. Then, he looks at me and says, "Can I talk to you?" His voice is grave but it echos. Rachel lives in a cabin adjacent to Thalia's Pine, just a little walk from the Big House. I look to Chiron, who nods, and follow Aaron as he walks out.

As soon as the door to the Big House closes behind us, Aaron says, "What the hell, Aspasia?"

"What did I do?" I say, quickly getting defensive.

"You volunteered me." He snarls. He's walking, his muscular legs pumping quickly. I'm in a slow job just trying to keep up with his angry pace. "You volunteered me and made me look like a little baby who needs his girl to speak for him."

"What?" I exclaim. "Stop being a dumb ass-"

"You know I'm right, Aspasia. You know it." He glares at me.

"What I _know_," I growl. "Is that no one in that room was thinking that but _you. _I volunteered you because you're capable."

"What about the others? Charlie, Jean. Micheal?"

"Micheal's a stuck up little twerp who's too swallowed up with what others think to care about the camp." I glare at Aaron. "I _thought_ you were grown up enough to handle people _talking _about you!" I feel so angry, like I'm screaming at a two-year old.

"Well, I'm not! Okay?" He stops and holds his arms out form his body, his face contorted with frustration and anger. "I'm not! I'm a stupid little kid, does that make you happy, Aspasia?!" He waits for a response, breathless.

I breath in slowly, my anger simmering. I cross my arms and say, "I'm not having this discussion while you're angry because-"

"Fine." He says curtly and turns around and heads up the hill to the lone cabin of the oracle. Fuming once again, I turn on my heel and head back to the Big House. I slam the door behind me and the group looks up with wide eyes. Jean looks at me, questioning, but I look away.

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Smith having a spat?" Micheal says mockingly.

"I swear to the gods, Micheal, I will fight you right now if you push me, I swear I will. And if I can beat Aaron, I sure as hell can beat you." I look at him evenly and find joy when he looks away, scared. Not surprisingly, no one else says anything. Chiron gives me a tired, grown up glance and I feel ashamed underneath the weight of it.

_Is it possible_, I think. _To love and not fight so dramatically and not always have something in your way?_

Aaron comes back after a while, avoiding my silvery gaze. Everyone is silent, waiting. Aaron looks to Chiron, who nods. Aaron takes a breath and says, "Rachel, she, she gave me a prophecy."

"Was it bad?" Emmaline asks.

"No, it's just-" Aaron shudders. "It's weird, watching her." We all nod, like we understand when we don't. Rachel, the oracle, is pretty cool. She's a little weird, even when she's not telling the future, but she's alright.

"What did she say?" Daryl asks, impatient.

Aaron takes another breath and says,

"_The son of Death is the one you seek,_

_ To take you to the dunes of eternal heat._

_ The nomads of the sands shall be your guide,_

_ While the passion of blood shall blind your eyes._

_ The siege of the Factory shall begin with no moon_

_ But the fear will take a hero, far too soon_."

We all sit quiet, feeling our stomachs get queasy and our hands get clammy. _Fear will take a here, far too soon_. These words echo in my mind and I hear Chaos' voice whispering them. _The siege of the Factory shall begin with no moon._.. I'm scared and I don't like it, I don't like it at all.

After a while, Jean says, "Wow, those last too lines." He whistles. "Rachel has lost her touch on rhyming." The others glare at him. "Or... Not." He says sheepishly.

"What does it mean?" Robert asks. "The dunes of eternal heat?" We all look to Chiron for answers. His face is tight and tired.

"I know of a location that matches that description." He takes a breath. "Out west, there is a plane."

"A plane?" Charlie asks quizzically. "Are we flying somewhere?"

"No, a _dimensional_ plane." Chiron replies. "An area that exists at the same time in the same location as another area."

"That's impossible." Micheal says.

"So are immortals who throw lightning bolts from buildings in the sky." I say sardonically. "Let the centaur talk." Micheal glares at me murderously. Chiron waits, looking at us with his grown up eyes, before beginning again.

"The Desert of Illusion." Chiron says, the words sounding so grand and so mysterious. "The opening is somewhere in New Mexico, but finding it won't be the hard part. It'll be getting out."

"Why?" Colette asks timidly.

"The Desert has a way of confusing the mind. It makes one believe and see things that are not true."

"Like the Labyrinth?" Aaron asks.

"Yes, but not quite." Chiron tells us. "The Labyrinth's deceptions were real; they could hurt you. But the Desert prefers to simply trick you into believing there is danger. It likes to make it's victims that they are fighting monsters when they are truly fighting themselves."

"You act like the place is alive." Charlie murmurs worriedly.

"In many ways, it is."

"How do you know all this?" Daryl asks.

"Many campers have tried to explore and claim the Desert for themselves." Chiron sighs and rubs his temples in a way that makes my heart feel tired. "Only one has ever come back, and he was so deranged that he killed himself a week after returning." This brings the mood even lower and we all stare into our laps thinking about what this means.

"The son of Death..." I finally say. "There's only one of those, right? At least that part is easy."

"Yes," Chiron nods. "I'm sure Nico de Angelo will assist you, Aaron, in your quest. Though I would warn you to tread with caution around him."

We all nod. Nico is, well, not completely _good_. I'm sure that deep down, _way_ down, he's a good guy, but his life has been kinda twisted so far. The youngest of the "heroic" generation, he's only in his mid-late thirties. No one really knows where he goes or what he does, but surely it can't be too hard to find a guy who hangs out with dead people?

"What about the last line?" Jean mumbles as he examines the grain of the table, already as bored as I am. "The factory? What's that?"

"Perhaps Chaos is manufacturing this plant," Colette suggests. "And her headquarters, or whatever, is in the Desert."

Chiron nods slowly. "That would make sense. Nothing is more hidden than in the Desert. And it's energy would help the fear develop." He looks up at Aaron, who still stands, a little shaky. "Are you ready to pick your companions?"

Aaron looks at each of us, one at a time. He rests his gaze on me and asks, "I know you're upset with me, but will you still go with me?"

Despite the fact that he's so stupid, it hurts my heart that he would think that I would ever say no to helping him. But I can only swallow hard and nod. Aaron nods back and, looking to Chiron, announces, "Aspasia and Jean."

I can't help but smile a bit. I look over to Jean and see him trying to hide his grin. I look back at Chiron, who's nodding, but in the corner of my eye, I see Colette frowning. Suck on that, Blondie, I think with venom.

"I'll let you two prepare during the next two days. Then," He looks at each of us heavily. "You will begin your quest." We nod solemnly. "Then I dismiss you to ready yourselves. For the rest of you, we will be holding another meeting once they're gone. Aaron, I wish to speak with you." He rolls himself over to the side and we all disperse. Jean and I walk out together, the others seem grim and quiet.

"Well, this'll be fun." I say.

"Yeah." Jean says weakly. I stand in front of him and put my hands on his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I'm scared." Jean says bluntly. "I'm scared and I don't think I can go."

"You'll be fine." I pull him in for a hug, feeling the sadness washing off of him.

"What if I die?" He murmurs into my hair. "What if I die on this quest? Gods, I don't wanna die, I don't. I know that's not heroic, and I wanna be a hero, but I don't wanna die..."

"Hey," I pull back and look into his greenish eyes. "You won't die."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I won't allow it."


	10. Chapter 10

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 10

I'm packing in my cabin, Jean sitting at the foot of my bed. It's only been a few hours since the meeting was dismissed, but Aaron is still talking to Chiron.

I fill up a small bag with the essentials. A wad of mortal money, some ambrosia, a bottle of nectar and a bottle of water. A change of clothes, a knife, a pouch of drachmas. I'm considering packing my armor, holding the old leather pieces in my arms, thinking.

"That's garbage." Jean gets up and takes the armor from my arms.

"Hey!" I try and make a grab for it but Jean, surprisingly nimble at the moment, keeps it out of my reach. "That's my only armor."

"And it looks like a rotting carcass and is probably just as useful." Jean takes the armor to the bathroom and dumps it in the trash can. "Charlie was showing me some designs for amor and I thought of you. Maybe I'll ask him to make you some. It'll be ready by the battle."

"What battle?" I ask.

"_The siege of the factory_... Do you really think three people can pull off a siege?"

"No. No, I suppose not." I rub my neck and sit on the edge of the bed. Jean sits next to me, breathing quietly. "Hey," I ask. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

I bump my shoulder against him. He smiles slightly, but his face is heavy.

` "Aren't you scared? He asks.

"Sure, but..." I shrug. "I don't know."

"What?"

"Nothing, I just." I think. "I just feel it differently than you."

"How is it different?" He raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know."

"Aspasia, don't lie."

"I'm not lying!"

"You can tell me, it's okay."

"There's _nothing_ to tell."

"Is it about Aaron?" He takes my hand in such Jean-like kindness that it makes me wanna punch him. "It's okay if it's about him."

"It's not." I pull my hand from his. But my voice goes up an octave. Jean can't suppress the glimmer of satisfaction but he puts on his worried face over it.

"Why are you scared about Aaron?"

"I'm not, I-" I breath heavily. "I just, I'm not-"

"What?"

"I'm scared for him!" I shout finally, my face hot. I leap to my feet, gasping for breath. "I'm scared that he'll get hurt and I won't be there to protect him and I'll never be able to live with that, ever, not for my entire life, because Aaron is so much better than I am, he's truly better, and I'm so afraid that he'll be gone and the world will be left with me."

"Aspasia." Jean murmurs wondrously.

"What?" But I see it. My hands are glowing silver, pulsating with my heartbeat. I gasp and lose myself in the heavenly glow.

"That's incredible." Jean murmurs, speaking so fast I can't understand it. "I remember that, I do. From Chaos' palace, that time, that light that shot form you, I remember. Magic, it has to be magic. Gods, that's beautiful."

I raise one hand up, holding my palm out. I think about my fear, I picture Aaron dying and I'm the only one to blame for it. I see that and I put that fear in the palm of my hands.

An orb the size of a dinner plate shoots from my palm, destroying a whole row of bunks. It bounces off the wall and I duck as it shoots back over my head. Jean hits the deck and my eyes follow the glowing orb as it slowly fades away.

"I think," I say. "That I found a way to use this."

Jean smiles and nods. We talk for a little bit, him giving me advice about harnessing my power and me making several other attempts to do so. After a while, he goes to his own Cabin to pack and think and I let him, feeling a little bad as a friend that I let him go and I haven't helped him at all. It's getting late, Aaron probably isn't coming to talk. So I shower, lay down, and force myself to sleep.

Of course, dreams hit me as soon as my eyes close.


	11. Chapter 11

**I don't own PJO.**

**Apparently, no one reads crossovers. And no one decided to tell me this.**

CHAPTER 11

I'm lying in sand.

Every single grain grates against my skin, working their way into every crease and crevice. I feel them in my lungs, in my eyes. I feel them coursing through my veins.

The sand is shifting and I force myself to my feet, but the sand is moving beneath my feet. I feel so unsteady and the wind is blowing the sand everywhere and my hair is whipping me in the face and everything is this gold-brown color and the heat, the heat is unbearable.

_You're coming, my girl_. A voice calls in the wind, strong and clear. The sands vibrate against it. I know, I know it's Chaos and I'm scared, even in a dream, she terrifies me. _I'm so glad. I've missed you so since we parted on such unhappy terms._

"You can't scare me!" I shout into the wind, swallowing a mouthful of sand. Somehow, I manage to pull off the facade of bravery. "You can't psych me out. I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of anything!"

_So touchy. And delusional. You will die by my hands, the only question is when, my dear._

"I beat you the last time, I can do it again."

_An unfortunate accident._ The voice seems to mutter. _But now, now I know exactly what buttons to push._

I stumble over something soft and fall to the ground. Spitting out sand, I look and it's Aaron, his eyes ripped out and his body encrusted with sand. I grab his body and scream, pulling at his shirt. The sand, it's everywhere and I feel it filling up my heart. The world is getting dark, the heat has turned to icy cold, but the sand is still everywhere.

Aaron's blind corpse suddenly looks at me and smiles evilly. With Chaos' voice, it says, _Yes. Now I know all the right buttons to push._

Everything goes black suddenly and I'm swallowed up by the darkness and it's so cold it's like being burned alive and I scream so loud, I feel my voice box explode in a bloody mass. But slowly, a soft light glows at the top of my vision and, slowly, magically, it expels the darkness and embraces me in the warmth of a summer day.

_Thank you, Jean_, I think. But the world simply remains a blank canvas of white, no details, no definition. Jean's dreams to me are vivid, more real than reality. This, this is nothing.

I walk, or seem to walk, because there's no way to tell if I'm actually moving. Something right in front of me appears, like the static on an old TV or the swell of sand on the beach. It has a face, a body. A mouth that tries desperately to form words.

"Hello?" I say, my voice somehow still intact. "Hello, who's there? Who are you?"

The figure becomes slowly more define. It's a man, a tall dark man. His eyes are green. His lips form the same word over and over and over.

Daughter.

I jackknife into a sitting position, awakening to the darkness of my cabin. The bunk beds loom around me as silent sentries. My skin is clammy and I shiver. I run a hand through my stressed hair, feeling the tension in my mind bubbling on my scalp. As I rub my neck, I try and decipher the dream. It may have been a simpler one from Jean, a kind gift. But it wasn't as kind as his first one, the one of my mother and father and me. This was mysterious. Of course, it could be a trick from Chaos, trying to confuse me.

Of course, it could also be real.

I think about my boiling feelings and flick my wrist. An orb shoots out and floats in midair a few feet away, casting an ominous silver glow on the cabin. I stare at it until I feel my eyes burn with exhaustion. I get up and stand close to it. It gives off a little heat and I rub my skin, trying to get my blood flowing. I pass my hand through the orb, feeling nothing but a little tickle. I wave my hand over it, trying to turn it off. I snap, I flick my wrist, I clap. Then, I simply hold my hand out to it and think, _Dark_.

Black floods my room again and I find it surprising comforting. But the weak glow from my window still permeates the room and I go over to close the curtains. It's a crescent tonight, thin and wispy. The stars are clear, clearer than most get to see. I look at the moon and wonder if my mother is looking back at me.

_Do you hate me? _I ask. _I don't care, I just want to know_. But I do care, I care because I want someone to love me, I want a mother to love me like Annabeth loves Aaron, I want love, I want someone to love me, I want it desperately.

_Aaron loves you_, a small voice tells me. But I don't know that, and even if I did, a man can forget about his love in an instant.

I take a deep breath, close the windows, and make myself go back to sleep.

No more dreams.


	12. Chapter 12

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 12

It's been two days.

We're standing at the top of Half-Blood hill, waiting for Argus to pull the van around. We're headed to the airport. I'm wearing gray cargo pants, military boots, a white tank under a black rain jacket, and a dark knit beanie. Aaron says we're going to find Nico, but hasn't told us where. Jean stands next to me, his tiny hands gripping his backpack so hard his knuckles are white. As always, I'm deficient in words to give him. Aaron walks up the hill, Chiron, Charlie, and Colette walking with him.

"Good luck." Charlie says, his face full of sad hope. He hugs me, wrapping me in his embrace that is enormous even compared to Aaron's, and his arms are warm and kind, like Charlie.

"Thank you. You too." I murmur into his neck. He moves to Jean and picks him up in a huge hug, Jean's body swallowed up in the sign of friendship. I catch of glimpse of Jean's eyes and they're glassy. I look away and see Colette with her arms wrapped around Aaron. I know I'm petty and stupid, but I feel a stab of pain in my gut. She pulls away from him and, giving me and Jean a cold nod, walks off without saying anything. I almost want to snarl at her.

"You'll all have to be brave." Chiron says, his hands clasped behind his back. He's in horse form, but even as he towers over me, I feel like his words are holding me gently. "You'll have to be braver than you've ever been called to be before."

I nod silently, Aaron says, "We will be. We'll make you proud."

"My pride is not important." Chiron counters. "Your lives are." He sighs and rubs his graying beard. "You must try and succeed, but if you can't, do not sacrifice your lives for a lost cause."

"We _will_ succeed." Jean says, his face telling a different story. But Chiron just smiles softly and embraces us each on our own. When he pulls me in, I take a deep breath. He smells of horses and tweed. It makes me smile and cry a little.

Argus pulls up and we all clamber inside the van quickly. It takes a while to get to the city and, when we get within the city limits, I remember how much I absolutely hate the city. Not a blade of grass for miles, except for that pathetic excuse of a _park_. Argus lets us off at La Guardia and, with a many eyed nod, drives off again.

Aaron gives us our tickets and we're swept up in the efficient security of the mortals. I kind of hate it, everyone telling everyone else what to do and people touching me and it's not fun, it really isn't.

We get on the plane quickly and it takes off without a hitch. Aaron is tense beside me, his eyes constantly shifting, as if he's expecting a monster to jump out at us any second. And now that we're out of the camp, I suppose he's right. Once or twice, he makes a move to hold my hand and I expertly avoid his advances. Maybe it's just because he's so agitated, but he doesn't push the issue.

"So can we know where we're going _now_?" Jean asks, pulling out his ear bud.

"New Orleans." I shiver. The city is known for the dark magic, where malevolent spirits freely wander the streets. I'm not surprised that the troubled son of Death is living there.

When we land, the air is thick and humid and the sun is hotter than I'd expected. I'm quickly covered in a thin layer of clammy sweat. Aaron gets us a cab and rattles off an address to the driver. The backseat is a little awkward, Aaron to my left, all muscles and stress, his broad shoulders taking up half the space, and Jean to the right, his slender body folding in on itself to disappear. My skin sticks to the cheap plastic of the seats and I sigh, uncomfortable.

We get out in a seedy neighborhood in front of a dirty apartment. I readjust my backpack and open my mouth to say something but a huge crash cuts through the air and a dark body falls to the ground among broken glass. It moans and tries to stand, and fails.

We all stand around Nico, staring down at him.

"Are you alright?" Jean asks, leaning down and staring at Nico with compassionate hazel eyes. _I'm sure he's more than alright, _I think as my nose crinkles at the stink of alcohol rolling off of him. His brown eyes are rimmed in sleepy darkness and his dark hair is wild and untamed. Aaron offers his hand, but Nico just glares at him.

"You Percy's boy?"

Aaron's face tightens. "Yes."

"Great." Nico pushes himself onto his feet and pulls out his sword. The steely silver Stygian Iron glimmers in the sun and the air cools twenty degrees. "Get ready, we have company."

"Well, this is a fun start." I mutter, my bow appearing in my hands. Aaron gives me a look that says, _Please don't screw this up_, which makes me wanna punch him in the face. He pulls out his sword, twisting the hilt to choose the setting. It changes from sword to spear to staff until he settles on a wickedly curved knife that's longer than my forearm. Jean hesitantly pulls out a much smaller knife and I can't help but laugh at the dirty joke that popes in my mind.

"What?" Nico asks, scowling.

I open my mouth to say, _Nothing_, when a shriek like tearing metal echoes through the air. A huge, thick shadow shoots from the broken window and crawls across the wall of the building, leaping down to the ground.

"We're fighting a _shadow_?" I ask, incredulous.

"Unless you wanna die, then yes!" Nico yells and the shadow leaps at him. He nimble sidesteps, almost falling over, but Aaron catches him. The shadow turns to face us and slowly rises up from the pavement, becoming a 3D creature with the shape of a huge wolf or lion. It's face is shapeless but it's eyes are burning violet.

"Scatter!" Aaron commands and we all obey. Jean runs to the right, Aaron and Nico to the left, and I stay on point. I shoot an arrow straight at the creature and it simple phases through, breaking on the pavement on the other side of it.

"Really?" The creature roars and leaps at me. I turn around and run down the dark alley between the buildings, feeling the creature's hot breath on my neck. But the building at the end of the alley is tall and unrelenting. I focus on the brick and, with a mighty push off the ground, leap to the wall in front of me, pushing off quickly, jumping off the wall perpendicular to it, and landing smartly behind the creature. It backpedals, trying to regain it's coordination. I take it's hesitation and kick it firmly in the behind.

"No!" I hear Nico cry. Too late.

My leg goes straight through the beast, but when I feel the shadow touch me, it's like my skin is burning. But more like it's so cold, so blisteringly cold, that it's turned to fire. I try to scream and pull my leg out, but it's like I'm trapped in cement. I hobble down to take a knee, grasping my leg in pain. The beast shifts and suddenly my leg is trapped in it's chest, it's head looming over me. It growls and my heart stops.

The beast grabs me and tosses me against the building. The concrete is so unforgiving, I feel something in my chest crack and a bolt of pain shoots through my body. I fall to the ground and can barely breath. I hear Aaron shout and I know he's charged the beast. Bright, flickering lights of pain run across my closed eyes, but I force myself to open them.

I see Aaron expertly slashing at the beast, but to no avail. Every time his blade should chop the beast is half, it shimmers, the blade passes through harmlessly, and then the beast is back, swinging full force at Aaron. I struggle into a sitting position, but even that little movement makes me feel like I've been dipped in fire. Aaron is a blur, dodging expertly, like I've taught him too. His swings again and his balance is off, so the beast easily knocks him aside with it's thick tail. I can't see Jean, but Nico is muttering something, holding his hands over the pavement. In the dark of the shadows, his body seems to glow with an eerie black light that doesn't make sense, but it terrifying nonetheless.

Bodies burst from under the pavement, forcing their way through the dirt. They are partly decomposed, oozing, moaning zombies. Nico yells something in Greek that sounds warbled in my head but the zombies attack the beast. They are able to lay their hands on it, but besides that, they're pretty useless. The beast roars and bats at them in frustration. Jean appears at the end of the alley, holding a tall, long mirror. He holds it up and looks at me desperately.

_Just like you practiced_, I tell myself as I hold out a shaky hand and an orb of silvery light shoots out of it. Jean quickly moves the mirror and the orb hits it dead on. The mirror cracks, but remains in the frame and reflects a million beams of bright, white light. My eyes burns and I look away, hearing the shriek of the beast fill the air. When the light dies down a few seconds later, I look back and the beast is gone, only dark wisps of smoke remaining. The zombies moan, pawing at nothing, and stumble towards me and Aaron.

"No." Nico says firmly, holding his hand out. The zombies shake for a moment, then fall apart, leaving behind torn clothes and old bones that turn to dust when the wind comes through.

I try and feel happy that we've won, but it was a hard win, and this is only the beginning. I feel my chest and can tell I've broken at least one rib, maybe two. I look over and Aaron is holding his limp arm close to his chest, his face tight with pain.

"Well," Nico says, coming over to inspect us. "I think we should go inside and have a nice _long_ chat."


	13. Chapter 13

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 13

Nico's apartment is messy, with newspapers and empty bottles strewn across the floor. Strange pictures and maps hang on the wall with messy black writing painted on like graffiti. Nico gives me and Aaron some ambrosia and our wounds heal up quickly. The air is stale and dirty and the French style wallpaper is dingy, stained, and faded. Nico carelessly pushes aside the garbage with one foot, clearing a path into the small living room where a lump couch sits, covered in trash. He leans in, scoops it up, and dumps it on the ground.

"Sit." He commands. He's so dark and sullen, I do as he says, despite the fact that I see bugs scrambling on the floor. Aaron and Jean sit next to me.

"So what do you want, Percy's kid?" Nico asks, going to the kitchen. I hear the clinking of glass and the fizzle of bear. When he returns, he's gulping down another bottle.

"I _have _a name." Aaron says stiffly.

"Of course you do."

"Then use it." Aaron says, uncharacteristically hard. I glace at him in the corner of my eye and his face is unreadable. Nico holds his gaze for a moment, leaning against the door. Like he's sizing him up. Nodding, he says, "Alright, _Aaron_. What do you want?"

"First," I cut in, not liking this directness of Aaron's. There's blank spaces in what I know and I'd like to fill them. "Tell us what that thing was?"

"A shade." Nico grimaces and takes another swig from the bottle. "A evil spirit made of shadow. It's a servant of Night."

_Night_, I think, the violent image of the leather-clad daughter of Chaos streaks across my mind. I managed to defeat her once, but that was when she was sloppy and I was out of control. I doubt either will happen again.

"Why did she want you?" Jean asks, his hands placed awkwardly over his knees.

"I'm guessing for the same reason as you." Nico looks at us shrewdly. "Done with the interrogation?"

"The Desert of Illusion." Aaron says. "Take us there."

Nico looks at him straight in the face. "No."

"Excuse me?" Aaron asks, angry and a little confused.

"I said no." Nico says, examining his bottle idly. "What's your stupid _quest _to me? Now, I'll have to ask you to-"

"Let me tell you," Aaron says quietly. "How this is going to happen, okay? You're going to take us to the Desert of Illusion, or I'm going to hurt you. Do you understand? I _will_ hurt you, and I won't regret it. And if you fight back, I'll beat you. And if you beat me, I'll hand you over to Aspasia." He glances over to me. "And you won't beat her."

I openly stare at Aaron, mouth hanging open. I've never, _never_ heard him threaten someone like this, never seen him shown so much hostility. I would do it, Nico is a big enough creep and if Aaron really asked, I would do it. But the thing is, Aaron would _never _ask that. I start to argue with him, but then I realize, he's only doing this to prove a point. Nico is pushing all of his buttons with the comparisons to his dad, Aaron is boiling angry, and he just wants to prove that he's capable of doing something his father never would have.

Maybe for good reason.

Nico takes a breath and a drink to steady himself and I see his hand shake. When he's swallows, he says, "Alright. I'll take you. But are you sure, are you prepared for what's gonna be waiting for you?"

"If we're not, we will be when we get there." Aaron says, impassive again. Nico nods and takes us back out into the alley. He get into a line facing the darkest shadow in the corner of the alley.

"Alright, take my hand." He grudgingly puts his hand in Aaron's and Jean's. Aaron looks at me stoically and offers his hand to me. I take it without hesitating, but a part of my heart is worried. Nico takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, then looks at the end of the alley.

"Who are you?" Nico yells, his eyes dark. We all whip around to look and I say, "Argent!"

_Lady Princess_. Argent looks completely out of place against the dirty bricks and the hard concrete. He walks nobly towards us. _You left without saying goodbye._

"Who is he?" Nico growls.

"Aspasia's babysitter." Jean whispers, his grin coloring his words.

"You came all this way because I didn't say _goodbye_?" I ask, a little angry at this point.

Argent looks disapprovingly towards Aaron, glares at Nico, then says, _This son of Death will not be able to take you to the Desert._

"And why is that?" I ask, frustrated.

_You are a child of the moon, a child of the stars. A child of pure light. He cannot take you to the land of shadows without harming you_.

"What is he saying?" Aaron asks.

"He says Nico can't take me to the Desert." I say, rolling my eyes.

"He's right." Nico confirms, nodding.

"What?!"

"I can feel it. In _here_." He taps his chest. "I don't know why, but I don't think I can take you."

"Then how will I get there?" I demand through clenched teeth.

Nico shrugs. "I don't know. The Desert is the hardest place in the world to find."

Argent stands in front of me, leaning down on his front legs. _I will escort you, Lady Princess. _Seeing the obvious message of Argent's posture, Nico says, "Well, I guess that's that."

I sigh with frustration, unsure whether Argent's claim is real or if he's just trying to get me away from this quest. "I'll find you there."

"How?" Jean says.

I smile as I climb on top of Argent. "I'll always find you guys." Jean smiles bleakly as Nico takes a step into the shadows. The seem to bend around him and swallow Aaron and Jean. Aaron looks at me in the last moment and his eyes are bright. I give him a half smile, not really knowing what he's wanting.

As soon as they disappear, Argent starts running. And just like in New York, it's faster than anything in the world. The world blurs around me and the wind is like a knife in my lungs. But this time, I can fully appreciate it. I pull away from Argent's neck and let the wind run it's fingers through my hair and I let a laugh gurgle out of my mouth. Beneath me, Argent isn't even panting. At least this time, there's no one here trying to kill us.

After a while, I pull myself back into Argent and rest in his warm fur. In my mind, I say, _Argent, you are taking me to the Desert, right?_

I can feel his hesitation before he says, _The Desert is a dangerous place._

_ So is the Darker Woods._

_ You survived the Woods_, he relents. _But that was by luck, and only just barely. The Desert is different than the Woods. The gods can't reach you there._

_ I don't need any gods to watch over me_, I think bitterly, remembering my first encounter with my mother. I push the angry memory away.

_Lady Princess-_

_ Argent,_ I cut in. _I hate playing this card, you know I do, but I have to: I am your Princess, and you will do as I command._

_ Why do you need to go on this quest? _Argent asks sadly. _Surely another camper can. Not you. You are too important. You are too... Too..._

_ Too what?_

_ Too dear to my heart, Lady Princess. _Argent answers simply. I smile into his neck and feel one of my tears fly away in his jet stream. A lesser creature would never admit his affection for his charge, would never confess to his protectiveness over the little girl he has watched grow up.

_Don't worry, Argent_. I stroke his rumbling neck. _I'll be safe._

_ You can't promise that._

_ No_, I say. _No, I cannot. But it doesn't matter. Because I have to go on this quest. There is someone on this quest who's dear to my heart, and I have to protect them._

I can feel Argent sigh. _That Jackson boy... But if you won't let me take you away, then let me go with you._

_ No, _I say firmly. _You will rally my mother's allies in the Wild and find all the help you can._

_ Lady Princess-_

_ Argent_. My voice is like stone and he doesn't fight back. We run in silence for the rest of the journey. Eventually, Argent slows so I can see huge, red mountains in front of us and a great, dry orange plain around us. New Mexico, I think. Though I'm not sure. The sun is in it's highest point in the sky.

Argent stops and stomps the ground, sniffing. _It's here, Lady Princess_. I jump off his back. _Though you will have to go alone from here._

"How am I suppose to find Aaron and Jean?" I ask. For all of my melodramatic, heroic claims to Jean, I'm still just a girl.

_Everyone who enters the Desert enters at the same point. Finding them will not be the hard part. It will be returning._

"We'll find a way, don't worry." I pat his side and start walking towards the mountains. The sun is baking into my head and jacket, but I don't notice it. I feel like I should look back at Argent, but something tells me not to. The sun reflects off the mountains, and it's so bright that I can barely see, so painfully bright, but I don't look away. My hair is carried away by the wind and the rocky soil beneath my feet merges into a fine sand. The light fades and as I blink the pain away, I am surrounded by red dunes the size of skyscrapers. The sky is pale blue and the sun is so hot, I feel like I'm being burned.

"Aspasia!" I whip around, hearing the pain in Aaron's voice. It's coming from over the nearest dune and I scramble up the loose mountain, tripping over my adrenaline. When I reach the peak, I gasp.

A huge, almost mantis creature is towering over Aaron and Jean, it's dagger-like arms trying to stab them into the sand. Aaron it trapped under it's spiny foot and Jean struggles to pull him out. I cry out and the beast turns it's soulless eyes to me.

I rip off my jacket, feeling the heat of the sun on my bare shoulders, and my bow is in hand. And I charge.


	14. Chapter 14

**I don't own PJO. So, I feel like this one is gonna be _so _much longer than the Darker Woods. Also, I just really want someone to do fan art about this beside me :)**

CHAPTER 14

I launch a volley of arrows into the mantis' eye, but they simply bounce off the hard surface. But it distracts it enough for it to lift it's foot off Aaron, long enough for Jean to pull him to his. But now it's headed towards me, in shocking and efficient speed. It screeches, like nails on a chalkboard, and makes a stab at me.

I jump to the left, rolling on the soft sand. It's arm-spine-knife-blade-protrusion-thingy stabs the sand and a huge plume shoots into the sky. Recovering quickly, it pulls it out and stabs for me again.

"Aa-argh!" Aaron cries and he slashes off the tip of the mantis' leg right before it can impale me. The creature shrieks again and stumbles to the ground. Aaron lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing and is running before we can be crushed underneath it's body.

"You okay?" He asks, panting.

"Yeah." I answer, breathless. He sets me down and Jean runs up to me, giving me a quick hug.

"How did you guys piss him off?" I ask.

"We breath, Aspasia. I'm sorry that we were less than satisfactory-"

"No time for witty comebacks, Jean1" Aaron says. The creature is pulling itself back up onto it's injured leg. Limping, but still deadly, it hobbles back towards us, mandibles clicking evilly.

"Scatter!" Aaron says and we all comply. Jean runs in between it's legs, dangerously close to the sharp spines that travel along the back of it's legs. But despite all of it's thrashing and stomping, Jean nimbly dodges being skewered.

_Fear will take a hero, far too soon_, a voice tells me as I charge for it. I shake away the fear and shoot another arrow, trying to aim for the mouth. Quick as lightning, the mantis snaps the arrow with it's mandible, inches away from it's mouth, and the broken arrow falls stupidly to the ground.

"Hey!" Aaron calls from the other side of the creature. "Grappling hook! Arrow! Rope -Thing!"

Somehow, I manage to understand that he wants me to shoot an arrow with a rope on it to trap the creature. But I don't have any arrow like that. _Or do I_, I think as I pull back another arrow.

_Rope_, I think before I let it go. As the arrow flies away, a rope magically appears, connected to the end of the shaft and flying alongside with it. I reach back and feel the rope flying from my quiver, burning the tips of my fingers beautifully. The arrow flies to the other side of the creature, digging into the sand. Aaron runs for it and pulls off the rope. I pull my end out of the quiver and sprint to my left, Aaron to the right. The creature's legs are pulled tighter and tighter. Jean sees what we're doing and expertly ducks under the rope and runs to get out from under the mantis.

With a frustrated shriek, the mantis falls to the ground, with a huge thud and a puff of sand. Carefully, me and Aaron tie our ends together and make our way slowly towards the creature. Up close, it's even more impressive. The size of a small building, it's mostly long, spindly legs. The hard shell that covers it is leaf green, with purple undertones shot up under it. It's eyes are huge, red and sky blue. They shift crazily as Aaron makes his way closer to the head. The creature shrieks and Aaron silences it with a blade to the head.

I let out a breath, resting my hands on my knees. "Good... Work... Team." I say between breathes.

"You don't think there are more of those things, do you?" Jean asks, stretching his back. His body is covered in a thin layer of sand, giving him an orange tint. Only his teeth show a different color.

"I'm sure there are." Aaron says grimly. "I'm sure there's a lot worse in this desert."

"Okay, you need to calm down." I say firmly, standing back up to full height.

"What are you talking about?" Aaron retorts defensively.

"Just listening to you is making me stressed. It makes me thing we're gonna fail, and we're _not_. Please, you need to stop being such an ass, because it's not helping."

"_I'm sorry_, I'm under a little bit of pressure here, Aspasia!" He says belligerently, getting closer to my face. "I just brought my two closest friends to, perhaps, what is the most deadly place on the planet and if we don't succeed, the entire world is doomed, so _excuse me_ if I'm not my happy-go-lucky self lately!"

"Look-"

"No, Aspasia. Just- Stop. I just want this quest to end well, okay? I need to do this, and I have to do it right, understand?"

"Why?" I ask simply, trying not to get angry.

"Why?! Because-"

"Why do _you_ have to do this quest _perfectly_?!" I'm shouting now. Why do I let him do this to me?

"Because that's what my father would do!" He spits out at me. With those words, he deflates slowly. "Because that's what my father would do. And that's what everyone else expect me to do."

"I don't." I cross my arms.

Aaron sighs and rubs his eyes. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. Can we just..."

"Yes." I half smile. "Yes, we can."

There's a moment of silence that lasts until Jean awkwardly clears his throat and asks, "So, uhm, what do we do now?"

"I don't know." Aaron answers honestly. "We're suppose to have a guide. _The nomads of the desert_, right?"

"But we can't just wait for them." I say, brushing off the sand from my cargo pants. "We should head for the center of the desert."

"Why the center?" Jean asks.

"How many evil geniuses hide their evil lair on the _edges_ of a horrible landscape?" I ask sarcastically. "It's always the center." Jean shrugs, Aaron nods. I run back over the dune, grab my jacket and tie it around my waist, and we start walking. The only problem: we have no idea which direction is towards the center. And when we try to back track, new desert surrounds us.

"This isn't going well." Aaron says, the stress making his words clipped. I slip my sweaty hand into his. He looks at me, a little scared.

"It'll be fine." I say, though inside I'm terrified. "If we just keep walking, we'll find something eventually." There's absolutely no logic to that, but they listen and we simply start walking.

Walking.

It carries a whole new meaning now.

Imagine every single step, every movement you make, like trying to drag a dead elephant behind you. And imagine the sun baking your skin till you feel like you're burning and you cry and that hurts, because even the salt of your tears sting. And the sand is everywhere, in your eyes, in your lungs, in your veins. And even the shadows feel like flames.

We try and stick together at first, but eventually we get into a loose line; Aaron trudging in the front, me in the middle, and Jean plodding along in the back. Every step is more painful than the last. The waves of heat off the sand blur my vision and I see things that aren't there. At the crest of one dune, I see my mother, pristine and silver, watching us walk with a cold look in her eyes. On another I see a shaky vision of my father, reaching out to us. I also see other mantis creatures, some alone, some in pairs. Even in our daze, we all scramble to avoid them.

Water.

Water.

Please, for the love of the gods, water.

My throat is stone. There's nothing, just pain. I can barely breath, my throat is so dry. My lips are chapped, like a barren wasteland. And the thirstier I become, the more I dream of water, and the thirstier I become.

Water.

Water.

It feels like we've been walking for years. It feels like we always have been.


	15. Chapter 15

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 15

Night had fallen and we sat, huddled like penguins, around a dull fire made of cactus pieces and tumbleweeds. Jean was curled up like a sad little puppy, head resting in my lap. Aaron had his arm wrapped around my shoulders, his free hand clasping mine. But it wasn't romantic, it was simply out of necessity. We tried to sleep, but it didn't come. The blazing heat that had licked at our tired bodies all day was replaced by an ice that seemed to grow from within and turn my limbs into painful icicles that, if moved, felt like I was dipping them into fire.

"I'm sorry." Aaron mutters stiffly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this." _I'm sorry I've doomed you_. This is what he wants to say, but his pride is holding me back, just like mine is keeping me from agreeing.

"I'm over it." I answer back just as formally. Because I know I'm meant to be here, because I know I'm meant to help Aaron on this, I know I am. After that, we try to endure the night in silence. I curl myself up against Aaron, pressing my face against his neck.

This will all be over soon if we don't find some water.

The sun rises slowly, the golden rays thick enough to walk on. The soft warmth of the morning brings my body back slowly. Even after I'm able to move, I'm stiff. We start walking again, rubbing the thin layer of sleep from our eyes.

But the gentle sunlight soon resumes it's fearsome, horrible heat and I feel like an egg on a frying pan. I just feel like a yellow yolk, surrounded by a gooey white slime, and the world beneath me is just so hot, so hot that I'm sizzling, the very edges of me are sizzling and bubbling and I feel myself hardening and it hurts, it hurts so much, but I just sit there and take it, I let the heat into every one of my cells and I just feel it fill me up with the bright pain, I just let it fill me up, _fill me up_...

I become dimly aware that I've lost Aaron and Jean. I stumble around in circles, hoarsely crying out their names. My throat is bleeding, my words are blood red with pain, but I just scream for them. But there's nothing, nothing but sand and my loneliness. I try to follow my footsteps, but the blistering wind blows away any traces of where I came from.

I feel tears run down my face and, as good as they feel, as good as my sorrow is to me, I try to pull them back in, I try to save my water. And when that doesn't work, I try to catch them in my hands, drinking my own pain thirstily. But there's nothing, nothing but my own defeat.

I fall onto my back, staring into the empty sky and the lone sentry of the sun. I just want to die, I want to die right now. I remember feeling like this when I was in the Woods, something like this, but it doesn't even compare. In the Woods, I could survive, even if it was just barely. Just barely. But here, here I'm just dying. I'm just dying.

I feel the wind pick up and I can feel some sand building up along the edges of me, in the little crevices of my face. I close my eyes and let the Desert swallow me up. I think of Jean, of Chiron, calling us brave and capable.

_No_, I think. _No, we're just kids. And we'll die like kids too_.

But suddenly, I'm standing upright, sand everywhere and my lungs gasping. I gaze dumbly in front of me, casting a slow glance behind me. I begin to doubt if I ever fell down, if I ever did anything that I ever thought I did.

"Aspasia." Aaron's voice comes from my left and I sluggishly stumble towards it. I see him, strangely clean and immaculate. I hold out my arms to him, wanting to collapse. He grips my arms awkwardly, holding me back from him.

"I'm leaving you." He murmured, his voice like velvet.

"Wh-What? I-I-" I can't use my words, I can't use my mind, my mind, I can't-

"I'm leaving you." He repeats condescendingly. He smiled and it's just as brilliant, just as beautiful. "You didn't really think I cared about you? You didn't think I would stick around for someone like _you_?"

I feel like the air is punched out of my chest. I try to breath, but I've forgotten how to breath. Aaron disappears and I stumble into where he was, hazy and delirious.

"Why would I stay with someone like _you_," Aaron says, suddenly behind me. I whip around clumsily, trying to keep him in my sights like a snake about to strike. "_Why_, when I could have her?" And there's Colette, slipping her pale hand into his. She looks so gauzy and airy and beautiful, so put together, so perfect, so...

"No!" I tackle through the vision, which evaporates as soon as I make contact. Now, I'm just lying in the sand, beating the dune with my fists, crying in frustration and pain. The Desert has peeled back every layer of skin and has seen everything that I am.

"I wish you were never born." My mother says, crouched right above me, whispering into my ear violently. "I wish you were dead. I wish you never existed."

"No," I moan. "No, no."

"You're a disappointment. You could've been so much more." Chiron says into my other ear. "Why did I take you all those years ago? Why did I waste my time on you?"

"Aspasia..." I hear the faint voice of my father, like the dust in the wind, stroke my back, trying to wake me.

"No, no, no, no." I chant to myself, curling my legs up into my chest. "No, no, no!"

"You're better than I thought." Night's voice, such a distant memory, but so distinct, so velvety, so midnight. She is towering over me, her shadow cast over my body, pitch black and inky. "Your friends are already broken. But you, you've lasted. Impressive. But pointless." I'm rocking myself desperately, feeling the icy fire of the Desert and of the pain eating away at my veins.

Night leans down over me and, almost maternally, brushes my hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. Her fingers leave a lingering cool on my boiling skin."Just give in, child." She pleads with me gently. "You know you're not strong enough to handle it. You'll be Lady Chaos' soon enough." I cover my ears, terrified of her words and of my tears.

Now, it's Aaron, stroking my face gently. "Give in. Give up your strength. Come on, just let Chaos have you. Become hers. You know you will, it'll be easier."

I'm gasping for breath, my teeth clenched in pain. The hurt, the heat, everything, seeps through my closed eyes like blinding light.

"No." I hiss through a tight jaw. "No, I'll never be hers. I'll never be anyone's but my own."

And now I'm alone, alone with the Desert. The blinding pain has been replaced with the dull ache of the Desert, the scathing wind of sand across my skin. But the memory of it all is there, and it takes me a moment to compose myself, lying on my side in the dunes. My nose is runny, miraculously finding the moisture to make gross snot, and my eyes are puffy. But once I come to my sense, I feel the heat of the setting sun shrivel me up. The sky is orange, the sun red. How long have I been- I don't even care, what's happening? I slowly sit up, feeling my hands shake with exhaustion. My mind is returning to me and I know, if I don't find water soon, I'll die of exposure. Or dehydration. I don't even care.

I blink the sand from my eyes and I see Aaron and Jean, huddled in shaking bodies of terror a few feet from me. I somehow, somewhere, find the strength to stumble towards them. I drop next to Jean, who's burying his face in his arms, the gasp of his weeping silently seeping through.

"Jean." I mutter tiredly, exhausted, scared. "Jean, please. Jean, Jean, are you okay? Jean..." He slowly pulls back his arms, moving stiffly. His hazel eyes are the size of dishes, filled with terror. I expect him to start screaming, to start venting out his pain. But he just stares at me, then slowly lowers himself onto the sand, still as stone. I stare at him for a moment, my hands hovering over him, trying to help him, somehow, but I don't know. I don't know.

I crawl over to Aaron, feeling my body dying around me. His face is covered by his hands, his shoulders shaking.

"Aaron..." I take his hands and try to peel them from his face. He tries to fight back, but eventually relents and reveal his face. It's bloody with deep scratches across his cheeks. The tips of his fingers are crusty brown. He's hurt himself, he's hurt himself because he doesn't know how to handle the pain. He sees me and his eyes, his eyes are cloudy and deep, but when he sees me, when he sees me, he starts to audibly moan, the cry of anguish. I don't hesitate, how can I, I pull him into me and embrace him. His hands are crushed between us, still frozen with the pain of his own blood. He cries into my sweaty, sandy hair, and he presses his face into my neck. We're all just dying, we're dying and I feel it. But at least I'm here and Aaron's with me.

I feel the crisp hairs on the back of my neck try and rise and I pull away from Aaron, sitting up, looking around. The dunes are empty, except-

On the crest of the dune in front of the setting sun, several shadowy figures are perched, watching us. My stomach turns to stone when I think of a battle, knowing we'll never make it. But as the red light of the sun sets behind them, I can make out rounded ears and muscular shoulders, lanky bodies perched on muscular hind legs.

"The nomads of the desert." I croak. Then I blackout.


	16. Chapter 16

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 16

When I open my eyes, I feel the blessed kiss of shadow across my forehead. My skin is clammy and stinging with sunburn. I feel a light fabric resting over my body. Beneath me, there is only soft warmth that smell of furs. Above me is dark green with hints of sky and sun. I try and sit up and my head pounds with a violent headache. When my warped vision settles, I gasp.

_Be still, Lady Princess_. A young, female voice says in my head. _I mean you no harm_. Standing in front of me is a lioness the size of a Harley. Her eyes are intense amber and her fur is a dull gold. She's skinny, but in a way that makes her seem like she could never be deadlier than what she is now. Her face in unreadable.

"You're a lion." I say dumbly, my voice gruff. I almost see the lioness smile.

_Yes. And you're alive._ We're in a dim little cave with palm fronds stopping up the holes in the walls and roof. I'm wearing a light linen dress and my hair is loose around my shoulders.

The lioness steps out and when she returns, a gord is in her mouth. I hear the water swishing. She tosses the gord to me and I don't hesitate, I pull out the stop and pour it down my throat. It's messy, leaking out all over my face and chest. The water itself is gritty, with traces of sand in it, but it taste likes the most delicious thing in the universe.

_Slowly_, the lioness advises. I try to listen, but it's hard when you can still remember dying and willing to sell your soul for a glass of water. After a moment, I pull back and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Who are you?" I ask, gasping for breath.

_Aleia_. She pronounces it like _ah-lay-ah_. She licks a paw and passes it over her ear neatly. _My pride found you ans your friends dying in the desert and we brought you to one of our sites_.

"My friends." Electricity shoots up my spine. "Are they-"

_Fine. Resting. They were weaker than you. But they shall recover in time_.

I rub my head, pushing my hair out of my face. "How long was I asleep?"

_Three journeys of the sun._ I take another swig of water before standing up. The roof is cramp, designed for lions, I suppose, but I manage to hobble out, pushing back the fronds at the door to step out.

A whole pride of lions recline outside. They are all the same, lusterless gold color, almost disappearing against the sand. The are about twelve females, counting Aleia, lounging around a muddy puddle. There are some cubs tumbling over each other, a few young lions play fighting. When I step out, every head turns and examines me. Another cave sits on the other side of the puddle. Holding my head high, I step towards it.

_Careful_, Aleia strides in front of me, stopping me. _My people saved you from the desert, but they may have ill feelings for you yet_.

"Why?" I ask.

_You were trespassing on our territory. That is a crime by our law_.

I don't argue. The Laws of the Wild are different than that of man. But surely, once they know who I am, they will help us. _The nomads of the desert_, I think. Aleia leads me around the puddle towards the other cave. The lionesses' gazes are heavy; they feel like claws on my skin. I begin to pull myself down, hanging my tired head low.

I step in the cave and the shadow is cool and deep. Aaron is sitting up against the cave wall, Jean is curled up in the darkest corner. Aleia walks away to give me some privacy. I get on my knees next to Aaron, pushing his hair from his sweaty forehead. His eyelids flutter under my touch.

"Hey." I murmur. "Hey, you okay?"

"W-Water." He says, his throat rasping. I spot a gord like the one Aleia gave me and I hand it to him, taking out the cork. He drinks from it desperately, the water spilling out from the corners of his mouth. I take the edge of my dress and dry his face, clearing the sand and dust from the creases out his mouth and eyes.

"Are you okay?" I repeat. He pulls away from the water, shaking the sand from his hair. He puts a hand on my thigh, pulling me closer to him. His face nuzzles up against mine and I search his eyes desperately. They are heavy, like the dark side of storm clouds, and deep bags rest underneath them. Night told me Aaron and Jean were _broken_. I wonder just _how_ broken they are, or if she was even real. I remember my own visions are shiver at the simple memory of the terror.

"I'm stupid." He murmurs into the soft contours of my face. "I'm so stupid, how did I ever think I could do this, how did I think I was strong enough, I just, I can't... I can't- I can't..." Maybe he's crying, I don't know. Maybe we're all just so dried up that we can't cry anymore. I just let him heave his sorrow into me, running my fingers gently through his hair and uttering soft coos. After he has settled into a heavy, raspy breathing, I pull his face to look right at me.

"You're a big idiot." I say simply.

"Wow," Aaron says, a thick layer of sad sarcasm on his words. "You're really good at this motivational thing, I mean-"

"You're a big idiot, but you're _my_ big idiot." I say firmly. "So there. You're doing fine, so just shut up and do fine." And he smiles a beautiful, heavy, soft smile and I kiss him gently and taste the salt of tears and sweat and I taste the grit of the Desert. When we part, Aaron rubs his eyes and says, "I'm gonna talk to the leader, maybe get some answers." He rises to leave. I grab his hand.

"Be careful." I warn him. "These lions are creatures of the Wild, but they have laws and their laws are merciless."

"I'll be fine." He gives my hand a squeeze and walks out.

I scoot over to sit next to Jean. I place a soft hand on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey," I try to turn him to reveal his face, but he stays still as a stone. I rub his back gently between his shoulder blades. I imagine what Jean faced, when the Desert showed him, and the sorrow is caught in my throat.

"I think it was like a nightmare." Jean mutters. "I think that's what those things were. I think."

"It was pretty similar." I say, agreeing gently.

"Is it?"

"Why are you asking me, prince of dreams?" I say with a half smile.

"I can't dream." He says grimly, pulling himself away form my touch. "I don't know, I give all my dreams to everyone else, I guess I don't have any left over for me."

"J-Jean," I stammer, not understanding.

"You know what, Aspasia?" Jean says darkly. "Why don't you just go away?" And I can only pull my hand away from the cold shadow that is Jean. Silently, I shuffle out of the cave.

The pride is in a loose semi-circle around Aaron, who looks mutinous and about to spring. I rush over to him, picking up low growls in my wake.

"What's happening?" I hurriedly ask Aaron.

"Law of the Wild." Aaron says sardonically. I clench my fists and glare at the surrounding lionesses. Unlike other creatures of the Wild, they do not flinch under my silvery gaze.

"Who are you, to harm the companion of the daughter of the Huntress?" I say, a bit condescendingly. Some of the lionesses shrank back as they took in the glow around my body.

_We know of the Huntress_. A weathered, deep voice says. The lionesses part as a huge male lion with a tattered mane and green eyes approached. His ribs are prominent, but the thick layers of muscles are even more striking. _But we are not her creatures. We live by our own law._

"We did not know your pride was in command of this land." I try to pacify him, suddenly nervous. If they don't serve my mother, there's nothing special protecting us. "If we had, we would have surely-"

_You are still trespassers. _The lion says, his eyes like burning hot emeralds. _And the male is threatening._

I look back at Aaron, who can only hear half of the conversation, and he's glaring at the lion with clenched fists.

"You have to calm down." I whisper to him, legitimately scared, slipping a calming hand into his. "They're reading it as aggression."

"Tell them who you are." He barks at me. "They'll listen."

"They don't obey Artemis." I say. "We're on our own." Aaron instantly tries to relax, but he looks bewildered.

_Why are you traveling the Desert? _The male asks solemnly.

I clear my throat. "We are looking for a factory. A place where someone named Chaos is creating fear. She is threatening to destroy the world with it and we must stop her. We... _beseech_ you for your assistance in finding her." I try to pick my words carefully, like walking in a mine field.

_I know of this factory, Father_. Aleia says, rising to her feet and stepping close to the male, apparently her father. _The great darkness in the center of the Desert. We've lost many hunters to it in the last few moons._

"Help us destroy it," I say eagerly. "And no more hunters will be lost."

The male considers this for a moment. Then he says, _I will agree with your demands. If your leader can defeat our champion in battle._

"Of course." I mutter. Aleia steps forward, eyes glinting.

"What did he say?" Aaron asks.

"They want a fight." I say stiffly. "If we win, they'll help us." I roll my shoulders back.

"What are you doing?" He asks skeptically.

"I'm," I say slowly. "Getting ready to fight."

"No," Aaron says firmly, pushing me behind him. "I am."

"Aaron, they'll tear you apart." I try to reason with him.

"But not you?"

"_I _at least have a chance. You-"

"I'm just as skilled a fighter, Aspasia." He growls at me, his eyes flashing. I know that I can't argue with him, not with him like this. But I'm shaking, I grab his shoulder and hold him tight.

"Aaron..." My voice is like a nervous knife between my teeth.

"I'm the leader." Aaron says to the pride. "I'll fight."


	17. Chapter 17

**I don't own PJO. Guys... House of Hades... Guys, I'm hyperventilating.**

CHAPTER 17

I've never been one of those demigods who have prayed to their parents very much. It's not a path you take very often when you know your mother literally hates every molecule of your existence. Or whatever. But right now, I'm praying like I've never prayed before.

The lions have formed a large, loose circle about twenty five feet wide. I sit, every muscle tense, my eyes glued to Aaron. One of the lions brought Jean out into the light and, despite his dark, sunken eyed appearance, he manages to pay halfhearted attention.

Aaron is tense, shifting his weight restlessly from foot to foot. His sword, reflecting the sun so brightly that I can't look at it, is clutched in his anxious hands. Aleia sits, undisturbed by his nervous energy, a few feet in front of him.

The male lion, I hear one of the lionesses call him Kraion, steps into the circle. The murmur of the lionesses die down as he rests his heavy emerald gaze on each of them.

_The terms are clear._ He says. _The victor will determine whether we help the humans, or if we punish them._ Aleia nods, but Aaron just looks confused.

_You can't talk to animals_, I think bitterly. _You shouldn't be fighting. Let me do this. Let me..._

_May you fight with courage and honor_, Kraion says ceremonially. Aleia bows her head and Aaron copies. When Kraion leaves the circle, Aleia locks her amber gaze on Aaron, who shifts uncomfortably under the weight of it.

The lionesses begin to rumble and roar, their blood lust quickening in their veins. Jean tenses, shifting his dazed eyes from Aleia and Aaron. I just sit there, hoping, screaming, praying.

_Aaron, you're an idiot._

_ Why do you need to do this? To prove yourself?_

_ You're a man, I know you are._

_ You're brave._

_ Please, don't do this._

_ You'll just die._

_ I can't live with myself if you die._

_ Don't you dare die._

_ She'll kill you, Aaron. She won't even have to try._

_ Please don't die._

_ Please don't leave me._

Aleia pounces.

_Aaron, if you're gonna fight, then win._

In the instant that Aleia is in the air, time seems to slow down. I see the sweat trickle off Aaron's tanned neck. I see every whisker of Aleia's face, twitching in anticipation. I see the waves of heat off the sun, watching in indifference. I see Aaron's body slowly, slowly... Turning.

Aleia misses Aaron's chest by inches, tangles her claws in Aaron's shirt and rips it off his body. She rolls to the ground, but leaps back to her feet, snarling. Aaron, his mahogany colored chest shiny in the sun, takes a hefty swing at Aleia. She nimbly dodges and weaves her way behind him, snagging his foot. Aaron trips, falling face first. I hold my breath. The lions' roars are deafening.

Aleia moves to bit him, but his other foot springs up and kicks her in the face. In her daze, Aaron scrambles to his feet, dusty with sand, but unharmed. Aleia snarls and swats at him with her huge paws. Aaron dodges each blow, sidestepping just like I showed him, and smartly deflects one with his blade. Aleia yowls and springs away. The sand under her feet soaks up some blood. My heart soars, despite my fear. Aaron has spilled the first blood.

Aleia makes a leap towards Aaron and rears up on her hind legs, raking her claws over his chest. I hear Aaron cry in pain and I leap to my feet. The lionesses around me snarl threateningly. Slowly, Jean pulls me back down to sit. Win or lose, Aaron will have to be on his own.

Aaron grabs Aleia's paw and knees her in her barrel chest. She crumples and releases him. Blood dripping down his chest, he twists the hilt of his sword and the blade turns into a prong thing, like a falcon's claw. He points at Aleia and shoots at her. The claw ejects, the three talons separating and casting a huge, shimmering net over Aleia. They wrap around and, when she tries to claw her way out fot he net, the material stands strong. In the light, it shimmers. Celestial bronze. I breath a sigh of relief.

The net begins to tighten, pulling itself back to Aaron. Aleia, awkwardly trapped in the net, looks up to him, fear and resignation in her eyes. Aaron's face is unreadable, his shoulders rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. The net keeps tightening, getting smaller and smaller. Aleia yowls at it begins to cut into her skin. The lionesses turn their faces away, suddenly sorrowful. I look around, feeling something well up in me.

"Aaron." I say, falteringly. "Enough."

Aaron shoots a glance at me and his eyes are dead. But when they see me, the life floods back into them. He lets out his breath slowly before clicking his sword. The net retracts and Aleia sprawls out on the sand. The lionesses murmur confusedly among themselves. Aaron looks boldly at Kraion.

"I will not spill the blood of an innocent." Aaron says, his voice sounding clear and strong, like his father's. _No_, I think. _Like his own_.

"But I am the victor." Aaron raises his chin defiantly. "You will keep up your vow." Kraion considers this, and his wounded daughter, slowly. Then, he nods his head. Aaron lets out a sigh of relief. Kraion and the other lions disperse.

Aaron turns to me. "Well?" He says, his voice empty. He holds out his arms. His bare chest is shimmering with sweat and blood, his muscles standing out sharply. His pants are dirty and torn. A flush of heat shoots up in my cheeks when I realize I'm checking him out in this instant.

"Pretty good." I say with a small smile. He smiles back to, exhausted. I step into him and he wraps his arms around me. He smells like sweat, the Desert, and fighting.

"This is the one time I'll let you fight for me." I say firmly. He gives me a peck on the lips. "But I'm glad you won." I murmur into his face.

"Yeah." He says. "Me too." He wobbles a little, unable to balance himself.

"C'mon." I put his arm over my shoulders, supporting his weight. "Let's get you put back together. Jean, come and help me."

**I'm officially P.O'ed now that Rick Riordan is stepping closer and closer to my ideas. The moment Rick uses the name "Chaos", I almost screamed. Back off, Rick. Back off.**

**Also, House of Hades is brilliant, guys.**


	18. Chapter 18

**I don't own PJO. Guys, I actually feel like I'm not even writing a plot. My fingers are just spasm-ing across my keyboard and they happen to make words. I don't even know.**

CHAPTER 18

Traveling with the tribe is different. There is still the fear, the desperation, the feeling of the weight of the entire sun is burning into your skin. But now, there are people who know what they're doing. Who understand what's happening. And by people, I mean lions.

We stumble across strange, deadly creatures. How we ever survived on our own, I'll never know. Once or twice, we spot those mantis creatures off in the distance. Jean, Aaron, and I cower at the sight, but the lions calmly circle it, growling with bubbling aggression. The mantis will try and stab them, crush them beneath it's massive spiny legs, but they will nimbly dodge, leaving a plume of sand in their wake. One will jump on and bite into one of the leg joints, then another, then another, until they've gnawed off it's legs and left it defenseless. Then the entire tribe swarms the still-living carcass, it's screeches filled with pain and panic. When the sand settles and the lions move on, nothing but an empty husk and thin slivers of flesh remain. Jean and Aaron are revolted when I force myself to eat these leftovers, but I force them to do the same.

"Do you see any other food?" I demand. "We have to do what we must to live."

There are other creatures too. Strange snakes with shimmering golden eyes that move just under the surface of the sand. Birds with long, thin necks, blue-ish white feathers, and wingspans the size of a man. All these creatures watch us as the tribe passes by. And then they disappear into the moving heat of the Desert.

Aaron is silently pensive. His face is thinking, planning. The way his lips are drawn up and his eyebrows get knit together and his hands are constantly moving with nervous energy. He reminds me of Annabeth. Calculating. But at least he's present. He'll slip his hand into mine, give me a comforting squeeze, and then he'll pull away. That's all I need from him and that's what he give me.

Jean is barely holding himself together. Like he's made of glass, just a breath away from shattering. Dark bags rest beneath his eyes. He won't speak, he only walks. I try to imagine what Night could've shown him to break him like this. But I don't know. To be honest, I'm a horrible best friend because I have no idea what haunts Jean, what lives in his nightmares.

_If he had nightmares_, I think bitterly. _If he could dream at all_. These are the thoughts that circle my roasting head.

Eventually, after a few days, we reach a place where sandstorms circle like a hurricane, turning the sky orange with violent wind. Kraion sends a few lionesses and the cubs of the tribe away to an oasis not far from the edge of the storm.

"We're getting close," I mutter to Kraion. "Aren't we?"

_Yes._ He says gravely. _The Dark One lives in the center of the storm, a strange den filled with monsters. _Kraion rests his heavy emerald gaze on me. _I will lose lions in this siege. What is your plan?_

"Kill them and not get killed in the process?" I suggest. Kraion does not seem amused, so I say, "Don't worry. When our reinforcements get here, they'll know what to do."

_Reinforcements? _He says, dubious. I nod and he doesn't push me. We camp on the outskirts of the fiery storm. At night, the Desert is icy, frost forming on the crests of the dunes. But the lions gather together in a huge bundle, their body heat making the area warm and toasty. The three of us sleep on the edge of the group, just close enough to feel the heat, but not close enough to intrude. Aaron is already deep in his sleep, his body exhausted. I rub his back and lay down, looking up at the sky. The stars and beautiful and bright here, but the sand that constantly buzzes through the air warps them a little. Jean is beside me, his back towards me.

"Jean." I murmur. "Jean, are you awake?" No response. "Jean, we're getting close to the Factory. Everyone at Camp needs to know, I think you should-"

"Don't worry." Jean says flatly. "Chiron is getting the dream as we speak. He'll know."

_Well, that's taken care of,_ I think. I put a hand on Jean's shoulder and force him to look at me. The sand is encrusted on the soft contours of his face and it makes him look worn and tired, fraying at the edges. I scoot closer to him, slipping my hands into his cold ones.

"Please tell me what's wrong." I beg. "Please, let me help."

"You don't understand." Jean murmurs, his voice dead. His hands are limp and his eyes glimmer in the dim moonlight. "You can't."

"Let me at least try." I plead.

"You don't know what it's like," Jean's voice bubbles over, unable to hold back anymore. "You don't know, you don't know what it's like to care for someone, to love someone _so much_ when they're just inches away and you'll never, _never _get them..."

A rosy blush fills my cheeks against my will and I'm uncomfortably aware of how close I am to jean.

"Eh-hm." I clear my throat. "Jean, you know how much I love you. But I don't feel _that_ kind of love for you and-"

"Oh gods, Aspasia, really?" A flash of Jean's color bleeds into his grin. "C'mon, I'm _much _too good for you."

"Shut up." I smile and stick my tongue out at him. He smiles and a little of the desperation resting in his face evaporates. I hold his hands tightly. "But if it's not me, who?"

Jean hesitates, looking me deep in the eyes. "I'll tell you." I wait for him to say a name, but he just pulls his hands away and turns away. In a few moments, his steady breathing tell me he's asleep.

I roll my eyes. I don't see why he can't just say, but if he needs to tell me through a dream, then so be it. I pull my knees into my chest and rest my head on drawn up hands. I close my eyes and tell myself to sleep.

When I open my eyes, I feel the exhilarating rush of someone's velvet soft fingers lingering across my skin. I think of Aaron and the heat the replaces my blood in my veins is bright and beautiful, like fire that sings. I feel those hands on me, holding me, and I'm holding them. But I don't know who they are, I don't.

And then, a sudden stab of sorrow. So painful and so acute that I cry out, because that heat, that fire, the rush, is ripped away form me in the worst kind of way. The kind of way that fills me with hope and shame. My skin is empty, it's screaming for a touch. Every cell is starving, they need someone.

I feel a shock of cold fear, fear that shoots up my spine and fills me with dread. I'm shaking and I can't stop, because everything is too confusing and painful and horrible and the world is screaming at me, it's shouting all it's pain because I'm the only one here, I'm the only one who can hear all this pain. This is it, I'm only my pain, my fear, my shame, that's all I am.

And then those hands are back, I feel them take me up and dry my tears. But they're different, it's like they don't know how to touch me like they did before, like they never did, like it was all just a fantasy. These hands are attached to a face and this face, this is a face I know.

When I open my eyes, they are hot, sticky, and swollen with tears. I am shaking and the sun is too bright and hot. Jean is rubbing my back, Aaron crouched over me worriedly.

"You okay?" Aaron asks.

I rest my shaking gaze on Jean. His eyes are tender and sad.

"Oh," is all I can say.

Jean nods. "Yeah. Oh."


	19. Chapter 19

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 19

The sand is like gravel across my skin, I can almost feel the layers of skin being ripped off my skin. I tear the bottom half of the dress the lions have put me in (I still don't understand how _lions_ weave fabric, but I'm not asking questions) and wrap it around the bottom half my face. Aaron and Jean do the same with their pant legs. Aaron looks at me, grinning.

"What?" I ask.

"You look like a cowboy bandit-type person." He says. "A really hot one. But still." I roll my eyes, unable to comprehend how he not only has the energy to make witty remarks, but can look at this sweaty, sand encrusted, gross, smelly body and think it's _hot_?

I walk away from that conversation with a smile.

The lions lead us through the storm. The sand is so thick, I can't see in front of me. I take hold of Aaron's hand, who holds Aleia's tail gently. In my other hand, I hold tight to Jean, whose struggling through the palpable air. It's so dark, so red, I can't tell if it's day or night. I can't tell if the sun has died, if the moon has fallen. The only thing that's real is the grit of the sand and Jean and Aaron's sweaty, reassuring palms. My bandana-esque covering is barely doing its job. Sand is in every crevice of my lungs, stinging their way into the soft corners of my eyes. I would cry from the sharp pain, but the Desert has swallowed up the last of my tears. I will cry no more. The winds are strong here, capable of lifting away full dunes into the sky. I have to leave into Aaron, the force of the wind is too strong for me to bear.

The lions stop us after a while. I can't quite make it out, but a little ways off, there is a dark slash in the ground. From here, it looks small, but I realize that it must actually be miles and miles wide.

_There_, Kraion says, his voice jarringly clear in the storm. _That is where the Dark One builds her forces._

I nod and turn to Aaron and Jean. "We're here. Where are the others?" I'm shouting over the howling winds, swallowing several mouthfuls of sand.

"You have to signal them." Jean yells back. "They're ready, the just need to know where to go to."

"Signal them?"

"Do your thing, Aspasia." His eyes, strange and dark in contrast to his sand-encrusted covering.

"For one thing, they're a million miles away." I start. "They'll never-"

"We're traveling through a desert that doesn't officially exist whilst being led by talking lions who eat giant praying mantises. You really wanna have a conversation about _impossible_?" Jean raises a questioning eyebrow. "They have this thing called _magic_. So do you. All magic is connected. Trust me, they'll find you."

Aaron slips his hand into mine and gives it a squeeze. His eye reassure me, their cool gray easing the sting of my skin against the sand. He leans over and whispers in my ear, "I know you can do it, but can we have a conversation later about how Jean said _whilst_?"

Despite myself, I smile, and I find myself shaking my head while I raise a hand into the sky. I look up at the violent, deep gold, stormy skies. I think about the fear inside me, the Fear outside me. I think of everything that swirls around me with the sands. Breath, blink.

A thin, silvery beam shoots from my hand into the sky. At first, it's glowing form is swallowed by the sandy sky. But then, at the zenith of it's flight, it explodes in a million, fluttering pieces that fall like dying stars. It's beautiful and it makes me sad.

"Perfect" I hear Jean murmur under the roar of the sands.

"Only now _she _knows we're here." Aaron jerks his chin to the dark chasm.

"She knew we were coming, probably before we did." I say. I turn my gaze to Kraion. "Get your tribe ready. The attack will begin at nightfall." The lions are all staring at me with wide eyes and nervously twitching tails. You'd think lions who lived in a magical desert would be use to weird things, but I guess everyone has standards of normal.

The lions peel away into the mist of sand and Aaron, Jean, and I stay huddled like penguins in the blistering winds. It's strange, unable to feel the shine of the sun but feeling the boiling heat all around. Exhaustion is resting in the core of my bones, bleeding into every vein and cell.

Suddenly, I hear a new pitch to the roar of the unending storm. I look over my shoulder and what looks to be a tear through the air, the very fabric of the space, appears, widening slowly, glowing an electric blue around the edges. The winds bend around the tear, forming an orb of calm wind that slowly gets bigger, soon engulfing us in it's peace. Through the glowing portal, a figure walks out, clad in blood-red armor. It removes it's helmet and shakes out it's ratty brown hair.

"Alright." Clarisse La Rue, commander of Camp's army, says through her permanently scowling mouth. "Is this it?"

Chiron has brought a little over one hundred campers, leaving about fifty to defend the Camp, just in case. The magic cocoon that surrounds the forces leaves the air a normal temperature, putting the winds at rest in an area a little smaller than a football field. Campers walks with a sense of purpose, the detached look in their eyes a clear sign of a battle. Several white, linen tents pop up, displaying flags of various colors. The Ares Cabin, flag in bright red with a boar and a spear, hand out weapons with a sense of morbid joy. Apollo, with their nectar, ambrosia, and first aide. Hephaestus, and their tinkerings.

Chiron, in full battle armor, lets me out of a rib-breaking hug. The worry for us has lined his face. But his eyes are full of determination. "Come," He pulls us to the largest tent, with the flag of Athena waving proudly above it. I quickly try to shake the sand out of my hair before I push aside the cloth door and step inside.

The tent is set-up like a larger, more official Council meeting. A huge table rests in the center, with maps and papers and weapons strewn all over in organized chaos. An oil lamp, glowing a warm red and giving off a fresh scent, hangs from the ceiling and illuminates the tent. Around the table are Clarisse and Annabeth, arguing while stooped over a map, and the rest of the Camp Council, decked in full armor and looking a little sheepish..

"Mom." Aaron says, his voice young. Annabeth instantly locks eyes on him, and the relief that flushes her face is beautiful. Dressed in sturdy silver armor, a long, thin sword at her left and her dagger at the right, her emotions are alien to her body. She steps away from the table and rushes into her son's arms. They hold each other for a sweet moment before Annabeth pulls away, misty-eyed and smiling, and says, "I knew you would do it. I never doubted it. Never."

"Thanks, Mom." Aaron says quietly, a small smile gleaming on his lips. Annabeth gives me and Jean warm, soft hugs.

"If you're done..." Clarisse says gruffly. Annabeth rolls her eyes and takes her place at the head of the table, Chiron standing next to her. Aaron, Jean, and I stand at the end of the table. The eyes of every person are on us and I don't know why this makes me frightened.

"Alright, everyone." Annabeth starts out, sounding official and practical. "You all know why we're here. We have to destroy the factory no matter the cost."

"Where's Dad?" Aaron asks.

"Jackson is at the school." Clarisse supplies. "He'll protect them as well as he can. _Alone_." She said bitterly, casting a glare at Annabeth.

"You know it was the best choice," Annabeth says, sounding tired and defensive whilst trying to be reasonable. "Those students need someone to protect them."

"Those _students_ should fight for the Camp!"

"And what about their mortal parents? Should they lose their children to a war they've never heard of?"

"Listen, you may-"

"Girls!" Chiron says sternly. Like any camper, Annabeth and Clarisse quiet instantly. Chiron shakes his head. "Some things never change." He mutters. "Now, Aaron," Chiron shifts his gaze to him. "What have you seen in the Desert? We need to be prepared."

"Uhm," Aaron clears his throat, shifting his weight on his feet. "Well, there are plenty of monsters."

"Yeah. We assumed." Daryl sneers. "Anything _specific_ you'd like to add?" I take a second to appreciate the likeness between Daryl and Clarisse.

Aaron's eyes narrow. "Praying Mantises. Giant ones. Some snake things, some birds... Mostly, it's just the Desert. That's what you have to look out for."

"What do you mean?" Emmaline asks, her green eyes nicely complimenting her lavender armor.

Aaron lets out a nervous breath. "The Desert... It tricks you. It makes you... It makes you feel things, thing you didn't know you feel, but when you do, when you do feel them, it's real. It's realer than real." The Council looks at each other, confused and frightened. But Annabeth and Clarisse nod slowly. I remember the stories of their times in the Labyrinth, and I am comforted that they understand.

"Alright, so everyone stay sharp. Stay vigilant." Annabeth pulls a plain, gold shield out from under the table. It flashes and shows a clear picture of the chasm. It's even more massive than I thought, like a huge maw of the Desert. "So, the safest way down to the factory is down the left precipice. If archers stand guard..." She and Clarisse begin barking out orders and each cabin takes their respective notes. I ignore them, knowing I'll go wherever Aaron goes, and I slip out with Jean.

It's strange, to be in full daylight and perfect weather, yet be surrounded by a roaring storm of sand and dust. The bustle of pre-battle preparations is filled with friendly and stiff calls and clanging of metal. Jean sighs, exhaustion singing in that one noise.

"You should rest before the battle." I tell him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He meets my eyes and I can't help but blush and look away.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I should." He heads off towards the barracks, trudging along slowly. I hear a familiar voice cry out and I see Charlie rush up to Jean and embrace him. Jean wearily accepts his hug, but is asleep before it's over. Charlie graciously carries him into the barracks and I stand as witness, pensive.

I hear a roar and a scream from the other side of the site and I jump at the noise. I run over at full speed to find Kraion, Aleia, and the rest of the lions within the cocoon. I also find Argent, dressed in elegant gold armor, stamping his heavy hoofs at them and waving his sharp antlers threateningly. The surrounded campers have their swords drawn, looking jumpy and nervous. Hearing Argent's ancient shouts and Kraion's exotic roar in my mind is disorienting. I jump in between them.

"Peace!" I hold my arms out to stop them. "Please. We're all on the same side here."

_Lady Princess_, Argent's voice is disdainful and angry. _You know these- These ruffians?! _Kraion growls some words that I won't repeat.

"Yes." I say as calmly as I can. "And you had better calm yourself, Argent. That's an order." Ruffled, Argent stills himself, turning up his nose at the wild creatures at his feet. I roll my eyes and turn to Kraion.

"I'm sorry for the confusion, Lord Kraion. Please, I'll show you to the commanders' tent and show your warriors to a place where they can rest."

_Fine_, Kraion says stiffly, obviously suspicious and uncomfortable around so many humans. I point him to the tent and he stalks off with Aleia in his wake. I take the rest of the lions to a clear section of the site, separate from the campers. Argent comes with me, as if to protect me, and when we walk away, he hurriedly whispers, _How did you ever come into the company of such beasts?_

"Well, seeing as the other option was _dying_, I don't know, I think I made a good choice. What do you have against lions?" I ask.

_Bad memories_. He says sternly. _Bad memories from another life_. His words send a chill down my spine.

"Where did you get the nifty armor?" I pat the decorative plates with one hand. They are like the scales of a fish, easily fitting on top one another and moving naturally, like skin. The metal feels slightly warm and is etched with designs of the Hunt and the moon.

_Your blonde friend manufactured it for me_. Argent says. _It's most agreeable_.

"You mean Charlie?" He nods. I smile. I'll have to thank him for that. "So, I guess you'll be fighting with us."

_If you refuse to keep yourself out of trouble, Lady Princess, it is my duty as your Mother's aide to shield you from it as much as possible._

"Oh, Argent." I reach up and stroke his bare cheek. "I _am_ trouble. I can't keep myself from it."

He snorts. _Well, the Lady Princess does little do avoid it as well._

I smile and shake my head. I head to the barracks to see Charlie, but I stop and say, "Argent... What are our chances? In this fight, I mean. What are our chances?"

Argent takes a moment before saying, _I truly don't know, Lady Princess. I've rarely felt such darkness, such Fear as I do now. It is terrifying. _He shakes his head. _I truly don't know._

**So, this is getting cool, I guess.**

**WHO DOES JEAN LOVE? WHO? WHO?  
I don't know, what do you think?**

**Mwahaha. Haha. Hahahahahaha.**

**Man, I feel like a troll. Like Rick Riordan.**


	20. Chapter 20

**I don't own PJO. So, I just learned the difference between "its" and "it's". So I feel stupid.**

**Guys, I just keep listening to songs that make me think of Aaron and Aspasia and I'm dying.**

CHAPTER 20

"Has it really been that awful?" Charlie asks, rubbing his face.

I sigh and sit on one of the beds. Between me and Charlie, Jean lays asleep, oblivious to the world. The barracks are sparsely occupied, with only a few beds being slept in. It's immaculately clean so far, the blankets a soft green and the sheets a chilly white. Just outside the large ten are huge lockers for storage. Small side tables rest beside each bed, with mirrors suspended above each one.

"Yes." I murmur, rubbing my temples. "Yes, it has been." Charlie smiles sadly at me and we both sigh, feeling the weight of our burdens.

"Will you be leading a squadron tonight?" I ask.

"Yeah. Northern flank, I think." His tone is tight and I can tell that he's scared as the rest of us, so I avoid the topic. We're silent for a few minutes. He finally says brightly, "Oh, I almost forgot. Jean told me to make something for you. I think you're gonna need it tonight." Without another word he scrambles out of the tent. When he returns, he's holding a thin silvery diadem. He places it gently on my head and I feel, oddly, like a princess.

"Well, it's beautiful." I say, taking it off and examining it. It's delicately wrought, like thousands of individual beams of light were bound together in a simple crown.

"Put it on. And do your light... _Thing_." Charlie smiles mischievously. "You might want to stand up."

I look at him suspiciously, taking a step into the walkway between the rows of beds. I place the crown on my head and allow myself a moment to be annoyed by everyone calling my gift a _light thing_. I raise a hand, take a deep breath, and make my hand glow.

There's a sound like rushing water. Or more aptly, rushing stars. I feel something like icy water pour down my head, down my spine, and I jump in shock. The water goes down my arms, circles my waist, my legs, then it spreads out, swallowing my entire body in it's icy embrace, ice water wreathing around my scalp. I close my eyes, mesmerized and frightened. Suddenly, the iciness disappears and it replaced by a warm heat, like the heat off of another creature. I open my eyes and look down at my hands. My fingers are bare, the rest of my arm clad in intricately etched silver armor. I flex my arm and bend it this way and that. The armor bends like a second skin. I touch it, and it's warm and almost malleable.

"It's cool." I say, making a pun to myself. "But what's the point if it's not strong?"

Charlie stands up, picking up his sword from the side table. He stands in front of me, sword at the ready.

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"I honestly don't know." I say, only half-joking. Charlie nods and swings his sword, the strength in his shoulders rippling off the blade. I close my eyes, ready to feel the jolt of pain.

Instead, when the sword makes contact, I feel it, but it's only like a soft blow. I take a step to balance myself, but Charlie's arm is thrown back and he stumbles backwards, falling on his butt. I run to him, helping to his feet.

"That. Is. Brilliant." I say, smiling wildly. "How does it do it?"

"It's simple really." Charlie says, rolling back his shoulders. "The armor is reflective; at least, with force. Hit it and it'll send all that energy back. You'll still feel it but-"

"But not nearly as much." I exclaim. "Charlie, you're a genius." I throw my arms around him and his warmth is muted through the natural heat of the armor. When I pull back, I ask, "But why is it warm?"

"It's the magic." He explains. I nod, not really understanding, but not really caring. He looks at me up and down, smiling. "You look wicked in it, just so you know."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. He nods vigorously and I got to look into one of the mirrors. I gasp.

The warrior in the mirror is of another world. Her body is encased in a fluid, shining silver skin, etched with designs of stars, smoke, stars, and night. Over her head is a silver helmet, tightly formed to her head, with a dark visor over her eyes. Her violent red hair spills over her back like a stain, kept out of her face strategically by the helmet. Her legs are tightly clad in silvery metal, a skirt of light leather rests around her waist. She is deadly. She is strong. She is a warrior of the stars themselves.

I'm speechless for a moment, I can't make my words work. I only raise my hand, touch the helmet, and stammer, "I-I don't see the visor."

"No, it's more for protection. I made it so you could clearly see through it without it hindering your sight. I also added a neat feature right around..." Charlie begins to prattle about some cool bonus features of the suit, but I don't listen. For some reason, I picture the night of the gala a few months ago. Annabeth had dressed me perfectly, for a different kind of battle. Now, Charlie has replicated the same beauty, the same grace, the same poise that I could never manage by myself.

_How that girl has changed_... Chaos' voice comes from nowhere and I stiffen, my heart pumping with fear.

"Aspasia?"

Charlie's clear voice breaks the dark hold over me. Air rushes into my lungs and I blink away the fear.

"You okay?" He asks, his blue eyes curious.

"Yeah." I manage a weak smile. "I'm just- I'll just go see what the plans are." Before Charlie can question me further, I rush out of the barracks.

Outside, my armor glimmers under the passionate sun. Specks of light are thrown across the dunes as I make my way to the general's tent. People give me sideways glances as I pass by. I blush under their gaze, thankful for this visor to hide my eyes.

When I step inside the tent, it's empty save for Aaron, who's leaning over a map worriedly. He gives me a double take, smiling at the new battle-ready Aspasia.

"Wow." Is all he can say.

"Charlie's brilliant, isn't he?" I hold my arms out in display. I share a smile with Aaron, but it dies on his lips from the stress. I try to shake loose these childish thoughts and focus on the battle. "What's the plan?" I say, in my stiff, formal voice.

"Archers will be along here." He traces his finger along the lip of the chasm. "Until the battle gets fierce and the flank the sides. The lions and two squadrons will take the northern entrance with Clarisse. The others will take the southern one, led by my mom. During the distraction, you and me will belay down the side to find the center of the Factory and set the bomb." He pats a leather messenger bag, resting peacefully on the table. "After that, you'll signal the others and we'll have five minutes to get out."

I sigh and cross my arms. "Doesn't leave time for much error."

"It leaves time for _no _error, actually."

"Where's Jean going?" I ask, a seed of worry planted in my mind. Aaron rubs the bridge of his nose, looking so old, so tired.

"I've put Jean with the Healers. He'll be able to help the wounded and-"

"He won't like that." I mutter.

"I don't care what he likes." Aaron growls. "He's still shattered from the Desert, he'll be no help to anyone on the battlefield. I need to keep him safe."

I nod slowly. "Yeah... Yeah, I think that's a good choice."

Aaron straightens up and turns to me. He reaches up and removes my helmet, my hair spilling back over my shoulders wildly.

"Thank you." Aaron's voice is so soft, so broken. "Thank you for... For everything. For coming with me, for risking your life, for saving me-"

"Shh." I press my finger to his lips. "I _had_ to do all that. How could I live if I had lost you to the Desert? How could I go on?"

"I'm scared." Aaron confesses, pulling my into an embrace. "I'm scared that I'll fail, that I'll lose. I'm scared that I'll die."

"It's okay to be scared of death." I murmur as I stroke his hair. "It's right. Only fools and loners don't fear death."

"I'm scared I'll end up alone." He says into my hair. I pull his face away to look at me. Our foreheads touch, our lips inches away from each other.

"You will never be alone." I whisper and let my lips softly press against his. This kiss is gentle and beautiful. There is an edge to his kiss, a bite. But I take it and eventually it softens and warms to love. His smell is home, filled with warmth and spice. I pull my arms around his neck and pull him deeper into me. His hands find their way to my waist, one pressing against the small of my back. I feel my body fit in nicely against his. I remember when I didn't know how to love Aaron. Now I know. Now I know Aaron is mine. And I am his.

I pull back after a minute, breathless and on fire. Aaron takes in a deep breath, his eyes hungry for more. I stroke his cheek. "Now," I say, leaning my forehead into his. "Back to work."


	21. Chapter 21

**I don't own PJO. In case you're wondering, I just watch Lord of the Rings to get in the mood to write battle scenes.**

CHAPTER 21

My armor is faintly warm, like Argent's, but my fingers are locked in the cold. The storm has eased into the occasional strong wing, taking the puffs of mist out that ease their way from my mouth far away. Aaron is crouched next to me, clad in simple leather armor inlaid with gold designs. His eyes are serious and firm, but his hands shake as they try and get a grip on his sword. I try to catch his eye, but he avoids my gaze.

I feel a pang in my heart and gasp, clutching at my breast to contain the pain. Aaron suddenly turns to me, a clammy hand on my shoulder.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

I grit my teeth as the pain turns to a dull ache, then a simple feeling of weakness. A light flashes in my mind and I look to the sky.

The midnight expanse, usually peppered with the sentinels of the stars and the brightness of the Moon, is black, tinted with red. Perhaps the storm has calmed near the ground, but in the sky, the sands are still whipped around with enough power to hide the light.

"_The siege of the Factory_," I muttered. "_Shall begin with no moon_."

"Do you think _she_ is doing it on purpose?" Aaron asks, glaring at the chasm. "To hurt you?"

"Maybe." I whisper.

Aaron looks at me, concerned. "Maybe you should head-"

"_No_." I snapped

"But-"

"_No_." My voice is a wall and Aaron sighs. "This is my fight too and-" I wince as another flare of pain takes shape. But I cut in quickly and say, "And you need me." The wind is blowing gently, I can almost hear my father's voice whisper my name on the wind, but I shake that voice free.

"I can't take the time to protect you _and_ me."

"Trust me," I assure him sarcastically. "You _definitely_ won't have to protect_ me_."

"Aspasia," He said at an attempt to be commanding.

"Look." I point to the south end of the canyon. "The battle's begun." A bright line of fire, thin and wavering at this distance, glows in the deep night. I can hear soft cries, barely audible above the distance. I look to the north. Charlie must be leading his troops and the lions in now.

"We should get started." I say in clipped words, pulling ropes out of my bag. Aaron doesn't make eye contact with me, worry building up under his skin and rolling off him in tense waves. We wrap our enchanted ropes around a rock outcrop, tying the other end around our waists. The leather bag that holds the artfully made bomb, consisting of ballistic Celestial bronze and Greek fire and other nasty things, is slung tightly over Aaron's shoulders. Silently, we stand on the edge of the canyon, gripping the rope tightly in our hands. The rope is charmed to never run out, but the inky dark of the cavernous crack looks like it goes on forever. I look at Aaron's serious gray eyes and nod. We kick off the edge and start belaying down.

The rope only grows as much as we want it to, so we make our way down slowly. Of course, if we drop the rope, it will just keep growing until we slam into the ground and-

So, let's not drop the rope.

Sweat trickles down my cheeks, finding roads to sting my eyes. Heat makes my armor itchy and my hands start to ache. We're standing almost upright against the vertical canyon wall, walking down it slowly. I can hear full fledged battle on either sides of the canyon and I pray our ploy work, that Chaos' forces were drawn out, that we'll have enough time to set the bomb, to escape. I pray for a lot of things.

After an eternity of slipping feet and muttered curse words, we hit the ground with blistered hands and weapons drawn. An arrow notched in my bow, I scan the area. It's dark, nothing clear in the dim light.

"Aaron." I say tersely.

"Got it." He reaches into my bag and pulls out a lantern and gives it a shake. The magical fireflies in it buzz to life and fill the dark with their dim green glow.

The Factory is like a giant crystal formation at the bottom of the canyon. Though it holds the green light well, I suspect it's pure black in the sun, though I'm sure that the light of day has never touched this place. There are little tunnels pocketing the Factory everywhere. I approach the one closest to us slowly.

"Aspasia," Aaron warns.

"We have to start somewhere." I tell him. "Come on." I nod him forward and we start down the tunnel, running efficiently. I am tense, ready to fight, but we come across nothing in the cramped hall. The light reflects grotesquely off the crystalline walls. The hall suddenly opens up into a grand hall and we have to back peddle to avoid spilling out into the room. We press ourselves against the walls and listen in.

"... to the north, and tell the ghouls to focus their attacks on the archers. We need to get rid of those brats." Night is spitting out orders at a tall man in a black cloak.

"And the southern entrance?" He asks. His voice makes the room twenty degrees cooler and I shiver against the cold crystal. He pulls back the hood of his cloak and his glittery white hair is like starlight in the dark palace.

"Leave that to the shadows, they'll take care of it." Night says, running a hand through her smoky hair. "Go! Now, you idiot!" She barks at the man. To his credit, he doesn't flinch, only smiles faintly at Night before bowing and leaping into the air. Mid-flight, he transforms into what looks to be a great bird of shadow and darkness and flies out of the room, zooming out of the hall we are hiding in at a million miles an hour. He doesn't notice us, but the cold that he leaves behind is crippling and I have to cover my mouth to stop from crying out. Across the hall, Aaron's face is tense with pain and his breath comes out in puffs of fog.

"Erebus is right to mock you." Chaos' almost playful voice fills the room and I freeze. "You are tense, my dear Night."

"I am not tense." Night snapped. I peeked around the corner of the hall and I saw her, in midnight black battle armor, sheets of darkness rolling off her shoulders angrily. "I am _stressed_. I urge you to be as well, my Lady. The mortals have-

"Lasted only as long as I have allowed them to." Chaos cuts her off. I can't see her, but I feel the weight of her presence on my chest like an anvil. "Don't worry, my dear. We'll survive this skirmish."

Night is silent. After a moment, she disappears in an implosion of light. The room is silent, the spirit of Chaos still weighing heavy on my soul.

"Come in, come it." I hear Chaos coo. Suddenly, cold claws grab me and, before I can scream, I'm drug into the room with Aaron. Before us: Chaos. "We mustn't linger in doorways. It's _rude_."


	22. Chapter 22

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 22

The throne room of Chaos is gilded black. Like black crystal polished so bright that is seems to glow from within itself. The chamber is huge, like a theater. The ceiling is cavernous and glows a faint green from the crystal stalactites. Chaos herself, clad in a scandalously cut black dress, is lounging on a roughly cut throne.

I struggle at the invisible hands that are crushing my lungs. My armor can do little to protect me from the pure force that is trying to squeeze the life out of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Aaron fighting to breath.

"Oh, hush now." Chaos waves her hand dismissively. The claw wrapped around me disappears, and I choke for a breath. I collapse to the floor, catching myself on my hands, feeling the jolt of the cold floor rushing through my bones. Aaron is next to me, his shoulders heaving with the effort to breath.

Chaos rises and strolls down from her throne, her dress sending furls of smoke in her wake. She stands over me, like a strong tower, smiling down on my hunched state.

"Well, well, well." She says, running an icy hand over my armor-clad back. "Someone went shopping, didn't they?"

I scramble to get away from her, my helmet slipping off my head and my hair spilling over my shoulders. I stare at her, wide eyed and panicked.

"Come, my dear." She holds her pale arms open, her skin almost gleaming. "Is that any way to welcome a friend?"

"I-I-I..." My voice isn't working, it's like she's taken it. Yes, she's taken it, she's taken my courage, my resolve, she's taken my strength, yes, it's her, it's her, it's, it's-

"AGH!" Aaron's voice is loud and clear. I see him bring his sword down heavy on Chaos. On a normal person, she'd be split it half. But Chaos, she just grabs the blade between her palms in a whirl of darkness, stopping it inches from her skull.

"Well, Jackson." She says, playful and icy. "Somehow, when my back was turned, you grew a spine."

Jackson wrenches his blade from her grip and stumbles away. With a crazed glace to me, he twists the hilt of his sword and it expands, forming a long, pristine spear.

"Nifty." Chaos comments.

With a Herculean shout, he throws the spear with all his might. It hurtles with deadly speed and accuracy right at Chaos. With a flick of a wrist, Chaos deflects the spear back at him. It's everything Aaron can do to avoid being skewered. The spear imbeds itself in the marble-like floor. Aaron is left breathless and without a weapon.

"Enough games." Chaos decides and stabs her hands at Aaron. He jerks, tenses, and is lifted higher and higher off the ground. His face is contorted in pain, his skin getting redder and redder, his chest heaving for breath, his eyes getting fainter, fainter...

"_Please_!" I shout, suddenly finding my voice. And my voice is bleeding, it's on its knees, begging. "Please stop this! Please, let him go! Take me, take me instead!"

Chaos stops, still holding Aaron in the air, but relaxing her grip to allow him to breath. She zooms up to me, suddenly in my face. "Well, my girl. Looks like you went and found yourself a heart. How sweet. Utterly useless, but sweet."

"A heart is what stopped you last time." I manage, avoiding her black eyes. Chaos laughs, a beautiful tinkling sound. "I stopped you. I beat you. I-I-I can do it again." Inside, my guts are twisted into sharp pains, ashamed at my lack of nerve.

"That little magic trick you did? That was a fluke, a joke, a miracle. I _let_ you escape, make no mistake." She smiles and looks back at Aaron, his legs kicking into thin air. "And here we are. Utterly defenseless. Such a shame." Chaos lazily floats up to Aaron's level, stroking the hair away from his strained face. "So much strength, so much pride. So much _ambition_. Not to mention the face." She squishes his cheeks and turns his face for me to see. "What do you think, sweetie? Do we make a nice pair?" The whole ordeal is so awful, angry tears shuffle down my cheeks.

"Well, no matter." She carelessly dismisses Aaron, floating back down to the floor. "Your life is not in my hands, Jackson. It's in _hers_."

"What?" I cough.

"You, my dear. _You_ hold the decision." She sighs melodically. "I'll admit, that _brutish_ display in the Woods was impressive. I had never seen it before and I shan't see it again." She smiles sweetly at me. "But I can't allow _you_ to cause any more trouble, now can I?"

I stare at her dumbly, my hair wild around my face.

"You can either die here, save the life of your lover and your people, and prevent worldwide death and destruction... _Or_ you can try and fight, _fail_, and be forced to watch everyone around you die painfully." Chaos turns to Aaron. "Beginning with the _boy_."

I struggle to find the words, to understand everything. The tears have been shocked into a stop. MY hands are cold and shaky, trying to dig into the hard crystal floor. "W-Why? Why are you giving me a-a-a choice?"

Chaos sighs, like she's explaining some complicated theory to a stupid child. "Life is all made of choices. Some you can make, some are made for you. You, my girl," She clutches at the place where her heart _should _be. "You are _very_ dear to my heart. I thought that I would allow you the choice to leave life with some... _Dignity_."

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The air has dropped twenty degrees, nothing remains but the choice ahead. My decision is clear, I have to die, I don't even hesitate with that, but what's hard is saying it. It's easy to make a heroic decision in your head, but when it has to be put in action, when you have to put your life on the line for the last time, it's different.

"She doesn't speak for me."

Aaron's voice is struggling to be heard, dying on his lips. But it just _barely_ resonates, just enough to make noise and Chaos turns to him, inquisitive.

"No? Then who does?"

Aaron fights for air, so brave, so daring. "Me."

Chaos laughs again, almost fondly. "Oh, such a dear little hero. I see why you keep him around, my girl. Alright, Jackson." She lowers him to the floor, letting him go form her magic grip. His face floods with color, his whole body shakes with the joy of oxygen. "I'll let _you_ make this decision. Will you stand by your lady's choice, or will you make your own?" Chaos returns to her throne, sitting on it like a grand queen. Maybe she's lying, or maybe she's not. But the choice still remains.

Aaron won't look at me, because he knows what I know. He knows what I've decided, he knows that I choose to die. He knows this and he won't look at me. He won't look at me because he won't let me die. Even if I will eventually, even if that day is coming soon, even if that day is now, he won't let me die. I see the thoughts all rush to him, see the light dawn on him, see the decision being made.

And I know it.

"Aaron-" I say, urgent and on the brink of tears.

"I choose to fight you." Aaron cuts in, his voice defiant. He clenches his fists. "_Alone_."

Chaos looks at him, almost surprised. She smiles and nods. "Very well."

"No! _No!_ Aaron, Aaron, please, no, Aaron!" Chaos flicks her wrist and I'm being pulled back at lightning speed, back through the hall, back into the darkness. The room disappears quickly, Aaron's brave form blinks out in the darkness. I reach out, trying to hold to the thought of him, the very thought of him. The darkness is choking and the wind whistles in my ears.

Suddenly, I'm tossed out into dim light. I scramble to my feet, but the crystal palace has shut it's door to me. The hall is gone. Aaron is gone.

I'm standing there, dumb to the world, not hearing a sound. Everything has happened to fast, it's like the blur of the plans we made are still around, just starting to fade. We were suppose to do this together. We were suppose to set the bomb, get out, and live, we were suppose to-

My hands fly to my side, checking the bomb. But it's gone. It must still be in the throne room, with Aaron and Chaos. I gasp fro breath. I guess he always knew he'd leave me. I guess he just wanted to be a hero.

The tears begin to come, and so does the battle as I hear shrieks of demons and cries of demigods and clangs of metals getting closer and closer.


	23. Chapter 23

**I don't own PJO. So, I looked at the most reviewed/favorited fanficts in some of my fandoms...**

**And _I_ was peeing myself because I had _28_ reviews. Oops.**

CHAPTER 23

I can barely feel the earth beneath my feet. The darkness seems too dark, seems too thick and I don't think I can see through it. The palace, stark and reflective right in front of me, it like a wall, like a truck running at me at a million miles an hour and it's going to hit me and I can't breath, Aspasia, you have to breath, I can't, Aaron, pelase, why are you so stupid, why are you, why-

I am tackled to the ground, the small amount of air in my lungs being tossed out. Something huge and muscular is over me and I can't stop being distraught to be terrified because I know this thing is going to kill me and I can just make out the outline of something with great horns and teeth that sparkle in the light and I close my eyes and-

The huge creature erupts into a cloud of smoke and I've covered in a disgusting dusting of its entrails. I gasp in surprise and am in a daze when someone jerks me to my feet and yells in my face.

"Who are you? How'd you get this far past the front line?! What were you-" Recognition spreads across the dimly lit face of the camper. "It's you, _you_. Oh gods, come on, we gotta get you out of here!"

He leads me through the fighting, deftly dodging under swinging swords and razor sharp claws. I stumble dumbly behind him, trying to stay on my feet. The canyon is inky dark, only vague fires in the distance lighting up the faint traces of warriors and monsters. The roar of battle is deafening, screeches of demons and screams of mortals and the constant cacophony of sword against shield and teeth against flesh tearing up the air. Sand flies in the wind like chaff and it scrapes against my eyes.

"_Hssshaaaachssh!_" The guttural hiss of a demon fills my ears and I barely duck in time to be missed by it's huge clawed paw. The other warrior isn't so lucky and is catapulted away, getting lost in the madness of the battle.

I stumble, trying to gain my footing. I look up and the demon's face is like a smear of darkness, its body long and reptilian. Where its eyes should be are two glistening white scars. Its jaws part, a wet hissing noise creeping above the din. It snakes its way over me, ready to swallow me whole.

_Aspasia_. I hear Aaron's voice. No, my father's. No, I- _Aspasia. Your bow. Now._

My body reacts before my mind and when my bow appears in my hands, I'm rolling on my side out of the way of the crashing maw of the shadow demon. I pull myself up on a knee and launch an arrow into the demon's long neck. It writhes, but doesn't evaporates. Just recoils and launches itself at me again. I barely have time to sidestep its lightning fast strike. I pull out an arrow from my quiver and stab it into the demon's smoky body.

It wails, but still isn't dead. It turns its huge head back at me, it's jaws ready to kill me this time for sure. But as it comes back around for the kill, I launch a hefty arrow into it's throat. There's a choking noise, and the monster fades from existence.

I'm panting and my heart is racing, but it's now when I hear the swish of a swinging sword. I turn on my heel, using an arrow like a dagger to block to sword.

My attacker is a skeletal soldier, only half the flesh decayed from his bones. His soulless eyes stare deep into my soul, the decomposing stench that hangs over him making me gag. I'm about to stab him when his eyes begin to glow an eerie purple. Repulsed, I try to break away, but the eyes have me in a trance. My body won't comply, my limbs are getting colder and colder. I feel his bony hand on my throat, but I don't even fight. It's not until I feel the pressure against my windpipe do I begin to struggle, but then it's too late. My vision begins to go hazy, and as my lungs heave for breath, I feel the movements in my limbs fade and go slow. The noise of the battle fades and I feel my heart begin to slow, slow, slow...

A shot of pure light shoots from my chest, knocking the skeleton twenty feet back. I fall to my knees, feeling the rush of oxygen. I place a shaky hand on my heart where the energy shot out. Looks like someone's looking out for me, even if that isn't me.

The skeleton hisses eerily. A staff made of bones ending in a horrid blade appears in his hands and he charges me. I throw my bow in my quiver and square off, trying to summon another bolt of light. But the chaos of the battle confuses me, I can't get my focus. In the last instant, I try to sidestep, but he manages to clip my leg and I tumble to the ground.

I flip over, ready for an attack, and he is right over me, spear ready to impale me. I gasp and the voice comes to me, the beautiful mixture of Orion and Aaron.

_Aspasia._ I see their face, faded against the gloom of the canyon, but clear. Sometimes Aaron, sometimes Orion. _Aspasia. Now._

I hold out my hands and a bolt of light shoots out of them. The skeleton is launched into the air, arching down and crashing far away in the battlefield like the perfectly kicked football. I gasp, breathless and smiling, and scramble to my feet.

"Aspasia!" This voice is real, real and tangible. I turn to see Charlie, sweat stained beneath the gilded crest of his helmet, sword drawn and ready. His blue eyes are intense against his dirt stained, tanned skin. "You defeated Lich? How is that poss- Never mind. Come on, we're about to breach the doors." He looks at me, confused. "Where's Aaron?"

I open my mouth to reply, but then it hits me. "H-H-He's, uhm, He's-" I point a shaky finger to the castle. "He's-" A horrible, animal, crying sound bleeds out of my mouth. "Oh gods, he still inside. With _her_."

Charlie's face goes pale as a sheet. The memories of Chaos' torture are still fresh, fresh as the day they were inflicted. "Come on," He says, his voice rejuvenated with a sense of urgency. "We have to help him."

We run through the fighting, dodging in and out of combatants. The monsters seems to be retreated, but I know they're just building strength at the palace. A palace, full of monsters and demons and gods, and Aaron is all on his own with a bomb...

I run. Run faster than I ever have in my life.

We make it to the great, crystalline doors of the palace, where some of the demigods have made make-shift barricades for temporary protections. Charlie pulls me behind one with a couple other shaken soldiers as the monsters pour in through the doors, being chased by a troop of campers. But before they can enter the palace after the monsters, the doors slam shut and the campers are blown back by a great wind of darkness that sweeps across the huge doors of Chaos. All except one.

Annabeth Jackson.

Her silver armor, though battered, manages to retain a little shine. Even as Erebus, embodiment of shadows himself, descends to stand before the doors. Draped in an inky cloak, he smiles demurely at her. I can't see her face, but I watch her whip out her sword and dagger with grace and skill, ready for battle.

"We have to help her!" I yell with desperation.

"Hold on." Charlie says through gritted teeth. I look down and he's binding a deep wound on his leg, the blood seeping out from under the bandage. I try and help him, putting pressure on the wound. I try peeking over the lip of the ragtag barricade.

It looks like Annabeth is on her own.

In the end, Annabeth makes the first move, stabbing at him with her dagger so quick I can barely see her. But shadow is faster and Erebus disappears, letting Annabeth stab thin air. She searches for him desperately, but he reappears right behind her and grabs her, flying higher and higher into the inky sky.

"_No_." I trembled. Annabeth's form was getting smaller and smaller, even for my sharp eyes. But I _did _see her stab at him finally. Erebus flinched and dropped her. As her helmet flew off and her long blonde hair shone like a streak of sunlight in the wind, Annabeth fell. I reached out, utterly useless and so tense I could explode.

Erebus swooped in again, trying to tackle her in mid-flight. She went with his energy, slashing at him with her rapier. She was thrown against the palace wall, which she kicked off of with utter grace. She stabbed Erebus in the back and his cry echoed over the hushed field of battle. Annabeth fell the rest of the way, landing awkwardly and crumpling to her feet.

"Now!" I yell, pulling Charlie along behind me. I charge for the door, arrow notched in my bow. The other campers are paralyzed by fear, as well they should be.

Erebus appears before Annabeth, smoothing his ruffled white hair back with the palms of his hand. A little frustrated, a pleasant smile plays across his face when he sees me charge. Annabeth looks back, her gray eyes sharp with pain and fear.

"Aspasia!" She cries. "No!"

"_Agh!_" I shout, launching an arrow at Erebus. He flicks his wrist and misses him easily. Still twenty feet away, I am running as fast as I can, Charlie hot on my heels.

Erebus shakes his head, like he's scolding a small child. Then he looks back at Annabeth, considers her, and, with a flick of the wrist, throws her against the huge door at startling speed. She crumples to the ground like a rag doll.

Erebus disappears as a red scream billows from my throat.


	24. Chapter 24

**I don't own PJO.**

**Meh, sometimes I just throw in storylines that are sad. Meh. The curse of a lazy romantic.**

**Enjoy, my darlings.**

**Also, I feel like there are only three people reading this. One of those being me. And my dreams of being an internet sensation are crushed.**

CHAPTER 24

The other campers are running to join us, free from the chains of fear. But it doesn't matter. I am hunched over Annabeth, cradling her head as Charlie rummages in his pocket for some ambrosia. Her eyes roll in the back of her head and she moans. I'm scared to move her, I'm scared to touch her too much, I'm scared she'll die, I'm-

"Aaron." She sputters. "Aaron. Where's- where's-"

"He's inside." I say, trying to stay calm, letting my shaky hand brush her sweaty hair from her forehead. "He's still setting the bomb, I-I..."

She closes her eyes, not saying anything. Then, when she opens them suddenly, her eyes are startling gray, like dim lightning. "You have to save him. You have to go back for him. You _have to_."

"Of course, I-"

"No, you _have to_." She grabs my hand and her grip is like a vice. "You have to now that... Now that, I-" A horrible primal groan cuts her off and she clutches her stomach, curling up in pain. I hover over her in a panic. A circle of half bloods, just staring in fear, are standing over us.

"Maybe someone should get Percy." How we would do that, I'm not sure, but the idea seems valid.

"Idiot." I hear Clarisse's gruff voice. "If we send an envoy, Chaos is bound to have them followed. Do you want these demons in New York? At the _academy_?" No one brings up the idea again.

_Lady Princess!_ Argent's reassuring voice does little for me. I hear him force his way through the crowd till he rests his cold, wet nose against my neck. _Lady Princess. Are you injured?_ I push him away.

"Help her!" I whisper angrily at Charlie. Which is unfair because he's trying, but this isn't suppose to be. Aaron isn't suppose to be alone and dying, and I'm not suppose to locked out, and Annabeth isn't suppose to be hurt and I don't even know what I'm saying at this point, but shocked tears are spilling over my face, tracing grimy tracks through the sweat of the battle.

"I'm trying!" He hisses back. Suddenly, he flinches and pulls away his hand, the skin red with blood. I look over and Annabeth's waist is soaked in blood. I gasp.

"I'm not hurt." She says, emotionless.

"How can you say that?" I yell, shocked. The circle of half bloods begin to murmur awkwardly, but no one meets my eyes. "How can you-"

"Charlie." Annabeth forces herself up on her elbows. "Get me out of the way. Everyone else, listen to Clarisse." Annabeth nods towards the stocky general, whose blood-red armor is dusty and whose eyes are glassy. Clarisse sniffles and nods.

"Argent, take Annabeth." I say gruffly. "Get her safe."

_Lady Princess, I wish to protect you!_ He says urgently.

"Just do it, Argent." I hiss.

_Lady Princess-_

"_Argent_! That's an _order_." My voice echoes across the empty wasteland. The one time I use my power over Argent, and it's in front of everyone. His eyes glassy, Argent lowers his proud head and lets Charlie put Annabeth on his back. As he walks away, Charlie walks alongside him, a reassuring hand on Annabeth's back.

"Alright," Clarisse barks. "Aspasia will find Jackson. Get him safe, plant the bomb if you can. The rest of us will fan out and destroy as much as we can. Aspasia," Her eyes are sharp as they glare at me. "You signal us when you're ready." Nervously, I nod.

"Alright, let's roll out." She turned on a heel and faced the heavy door. She looked it up and down, then sighed. She adjusted her grip on her electric spear.

"I always hate it when immortals think they can keep _me_ out with doors." She pulled back her spear, ready to throw it. I heard her mutter, barely audible, "No one messes with the Jacksons but me." Then, with a hefty shout, she hurled the spear at the door. It embedded itself deep within the crystal surface. At first, nothing happened. Then, bright blue sparks of electricity began to dance across the spear's shaft and cracks began to show in the door, the electricity jumping around between the cracks. When the whole door looked like a shattered piece of glass, it exploded with a huge _BOOM! _I covered my ears and head as a million little shards of crystal rained down.

"Go, go, go!" Clarisse belted. And we complied.

The palace became a maze, a maze that filled itself up with battling demigods and monsters. My first tactic of simply charging down a hall at full speed led me to a barricade of _dracaenae, _nets and spears ready for action and I barely evaded the slashing claws and hurled spears.

So I had to be sneakier. I notice that the stalactites on the ceiling joined to make bridges and alcoves in the dark crevices on the ceiling. I took a few steps from the wall and, with a hefty leap, kicked off one wall, to the other, and then up to grab one of the stalactites, barely wrapping my arms around the bumpy surface. Grabbing on by my nails, I barely manage to hang on. After I catch my breath, I leap to the next one, a little outcropping from the wall. Then the next. And the next. And the next.

I get to one pass, guarded by two Lastrygonians who are being attacked by three campers. The giants are thrashing about, their huge limbs and clubs ready to smash the quick-footed campers. They miss and crash into the wall, shaking the entire hall. I barely manage to hang on to my grip, catching myself from tumbling down to my doom.

"_AGH!_" I hear one of the campers yell, charging the giant on the left with his sword raised defiantly. The giant swats at him, but he misses, and the camper leaps up grabbing the giant's shoulder and hoisting himself up on it's neck. He raises his sword to strike the final blow, but the other giant swats the camper off the giant and into the wall, squishing him flat with such force that blood splatters-

I close my eyes, catching my breath.

The remaining two campers scream, one fleeing back down the hall, leaving one camper, alone. Terrified but brave, the camper holds her ground, gripping her spear tightly. The giants laugh meanly, moving to smash her into the ground. Now, my bow appears in hand and I launch a sure-shot arrow into the eye on the giant on the left. He dies instantly, slumping over before bursting into a mud-colored cloud of dust.

His companion roars in surprise, searching the dim rafters ferociously. He almost grabs me and I choose this time to leap on his arm. He recoils, bellowing. I pull out an arrow and stab him in his fleshy, hairy arm. His yell is thunderous and he tries to shake me off. I leap to the ground and push the stunned camper down the hall.

"_Go_!" I shout as she stumbles down the hall. "_Go, run, go!_"

The giant refocuses, grabbing me around the waist, and I'm too slow to evade him. He holds me to his face, squinting at me closely. I struggle to free myself, but I can't. He grins and his rotten teeth stink. He slowly closes his fist, squeezing the air from my lungs. I gasp, knowing I'm seconds from my ribs snapping. In a blink of an eye, I throw my bow as hard as I can at him. It does nothing, but it surprises him long enough for him to loosen his grip.

I kick my way free and, pulling an arrow from my quiver, I stab it deep into the giant's eye. Black blood splatters all over me, but I force the arrow all the way in. He stumbles, then disintegrates. I land squarely on my feet, picking up my bow and shaking the dust from it. Brushing my sweaty hair from my face, I stalk down the hall.

I come to a huge door, glimmering black with green undertones. I can hear fighting and explosions on the other side, and I know. I know Aaron is near, I know this, I know. But when I push on the door, it's as solid as a wall. Frantic, I punch it, kick it, slam my bow against it. All this gives me is bruised knuckles and breathless panic.

"No, no, _no!" _I scream at the door, slamming my palms against it, over and over and over. "_NO!_ Let me in! I have to help him, I _have to_! Let me- Let me _in!_" I rest my forehead against the cold door, shaky breaths dancing out of my mouth. "Please... Let me in. Aaron. Let me in, Aaron, I'm coming, please, come on, let me in, please..."

I'm resting my entire weight against this door, this wall, this final barrier. I'm so close to just crumpling to the ground. I imagine Aaron's body, disfigured and abused by Chaos, being tossed to the monsters as they shriek with pleasure as they deface the body of their enemy's only son, his only heir, the lover of this upstart fiery brat. I imagine his body being lost in the hordes of evil...

_Aspasia_. Now it's only my father's voice, my father. The man who I never knew, the voice I never heard, but somehow the oldest voice in my story, the constant hum underneath my everyday. Somehow, he's there. _Aspasia. You can do this. Focus. Aspasia. Yes, you can save him. Focus. Come one, Aspasia. Focus_.

"You're not real." I mutter messily. "You're a figment of my imagination, you're just my subconscious. You're dead, you can't talk to me."

_Oh, Aspasia_. The voice says, almost disappointed. _I thought you had more faith than that_.

"And you're wrong." I murmur into the unforgiving surface of the door. "I can't save Aaron. I'm not strong enough." I can't even get to the point where I can cry, I just rest against the cold crystal.

_No, maybe not. _The voice concedes. _But your love is._

"Is it?" I mutter.

_I do not know. You tell me._

I consider the voice for a moment in my delirium. I close my eyes and I think about love. I love New Girl, and nice clothes. I love chocolate ice cream and cool boots. I like autumn, and the first snow, and the first daffodils of spring.

_You're not trying hard enough_, the voice gently admonishes me.

I sigh in frustration. Okay, fine. I love Jean. I picture him, his hazel eyes round and endearing. The sweet dreams he's given me, the dreams he'll never have. I love Charlie, his courage. His sacrifice. I think about the armor he's given me, I think about his hand comforting Annabeth as he followed to safety. I love Chiron, his wisdom, his fatherly love. I see his beard, graying around the corners, and his eyes are tired but bright.

_Even further_.

I love Aaron. I love the way the sun plays off of his skin when we got for runs. I love the way he looks when he gets worried, the way his eyebrows crinkle up. I love his messy hair, I love his slouch. I love the soft way he sneezes. I love the feeling of his fingers playing with my hair. I love his lips on mine, the sharp taste of him. I love the smell of him wrapping around me, even when I'm alone in my bed and he's in his, I can still smell his skin on me. I love how I know he'll always try to save me, always try to protect me, even when I don't need it, because Aaron is that type of person. He's the person who would protect you, who would save you, who would sacrifice everything, even their life, for you even when you beg them not to.

Because Aaron is good. Because Aaron is good in a way I can never be.

Because Aaron loves me.

Aaron loves me.

_Now_.

I place a hand flat on the door. I step back from the surface and take a deep breath, soft tears oozing down my skin. Light merges with the door, glowing defiantly. Cracks begin to form in the door. Not like the door with Clarisse's spear, perfect cracks in a complicated design, like a huge puzzle, like the workings of a ticking clock. The glow fills the door, getting brighter and brighter till it's almost unbearable.

"Open." I whisper.

There's a cracking noise, but no shards sly, no pieces fall. One by one, each broken piece of the door disappears in a puff of light. Slowly, beautifully, the door disappears.

"Well, well." Chaos says, sitting luxuriously on her throne, Aaron struggling in her choke hold. "You actually did it. Impressive. Now I can kill him."

**A few more chapters, then this is a WRAP! Also, planning the next Aspasia story now, and it's kinda awesome. Review and stuff, or don't, whatever.**


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